#and ive been sleeping a lot and crashing and logging on and seeing others going through the same - fuck
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(( i’ve seen a lot of people lately on my dash going through rough times - i don’t entirely know the extent of each one, how you’re feeling or dealing with the situation. i haven’t reached out because of a combination of being ill lately (i’m feeling better now) and the grief still being pretty raw but,
i want you to know that my askbox / ims / discord ( hanʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ#3428 ) is always available should you need to chat. whether it’s screaming into the void, throwing a bunch of thoughts together, venting or just being distracted - you are absolutely and entirely welcome to come and talk to me. i will lend you an ear, i will try and offer advice (if wanted), i will lend you my virtual shoulder.
lately, i know how it’s felt to grieve & i’ve come to realise that it’s a unique sort of sadness (different to depression but also...really similar) - i know it can feel like you look at your friends, family, online buddies, everyone & you might think ‘i don’t know /who/ i can speak to’ - well, as said, this is my post offering you that outlet. even if you want to write me an anonymous message unloading your thoughts, you can. i wont post or reply to it, i’ll save it or delete it if you want me to. just, i want you all to know that there’s a place here for you.
and for the peeps who aren’t going through anything right now, who are having the times of their lives or are getting good news. good. don’t feel guilty posting or gushing about it. don’t feel you can’t celebrate your accomplishments or good times because others aren’t doing too hot. it’s alright, we understand. we’re your mates or partners and all we want is for each to be content and be happy.
so yeah, just keep it in mind. i might suck at replying to memes, general messages & plotting but if somebody needs to talk / vent / be upset / happy or anything else, i will absolutely listen to you & do my best to be there for you.
i’m sorry from the bottom of my heart that so many of my mutuals are suffering lately. my thoughts are absolutely with you all. ))
#(psa)#(ooc)#this has been hard lately#because while it's been four weeks now since my dad's passing im still in a rut#and ive been sleeping a lot and crashing and logging on and seeing others going through the same - fuck#ive felt such a mix of emotions lately and it's been incredibly raw so i want you to know like i /KNOW/ how you feel#i get it so hard and it hurts a lot#but you're not alone not for a second#and in terms of whether its grief or just a bad time or mental health or bad news#its all valid - you're allowed to be upset and you're allowed to scream about it#i always say 'rp is just a hobby' which it is but the people behind the screen?#real humans who need love and care#im with you guys
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Emergency! Part 3
Summary: A woman comes back from her trip from Asia but isn’t feeling the best. And is rushed to the hospital. Her symptoms are that of the flue, but worse than. The virus spreads throughout the hospital, Jack falls ill collapsing in the break room. Dean falls ill on a rescue, Cas having to rescue the original victim and his partner. The reader, having to sit by and wait and pray for her friends pull through. But turns out the original patient with the virus got better, now her body has the antibodies to fight the virus.
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Nurse!Reader
Word Count: 4,262
Warnings: Scary Situations, Language, Mild Angst, Fluff.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Mobile Masterlist
a/n: I could use the corona virus or COVID-19 but decided to use the virus used in the Emergency! Episode of the same name. The virus being a strain of the Asian flu during a bad outbreak in the late 60’s. Also the drugs and measure mentioned are probably not accurate, I’m not a pharmacist.
a/n2: D.O.N = Director of Nursing, DOA = Dead on Arrival, BP = Blood Pressure, O2 Sat = Oxygen Saturation
~
“Dean,” Cas says, walking into the fire stations garage.
Dean was logging supplies in the squad truck when he heard Cas enter and got his attention.
“What’s up Cas?”
“When you started dating Y/N, when did you know she was the one?”
“What do you mean?”
“I really like Meg, and when she was taking care of me after that accident of mine I found that she and I have a lot in common and I want to know her more?”
“Well, Cas, it’s different for other people. Just ask Meg out. Talk to her, find out stuff about her that she likes, hates, and if you can find yourself still able to love her despite her flaws. Keep it going. Keep taking her out.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Nothing in life is simple man.”
Cas nods in agreement.
The alarm sounded in the station.
“Squad 51, someone sick. Respond. 226 south Jasper’s Avenue, cross street South Walker boulevard.”
“Back at it again.” Cas says.
“Let’s hit it.”
Dean getting into his usual spot in the squad, revving the engine to life and heading to the location.
When they arrived, another station had arrived originally.
Dean and Cas gathered their tools and headed into the residence.
“Chuck, what do you got?” Cas asked.
“Kelly McMeyers, 22, her dad said she was fine at breakfast.”
They followed Fireman Chuck through the house to the girl’s bedroom to find her on her bed, sweating, pale and in obvious discomfort and pain.
Dean placed a hand on her head.
“She’s burning up, Cas, get the thermometer.”
Cas did as told handing the thermometer to Dean.
Dean placed in the girls mouth, under her tongue. Cas handing him the blood pressure cuff.
Dean began checking her Blood pressure.
“Get the radio, we need to tell the hospital.” Dean orders.
Cas, pulls out the radio of it’s holster on his belt.
“Rampart, this is rescue 51. Rampart this is rescue five one.” Cas radios in.
It was a normal slow day at the hospital, y/n having finished her charting, getting reading for her lunch break.
“Rampart this is rescue 51,” she heard Cas’s voice over the radio. “Rampart this is rescue Five one.”
She picks up the hand piece to the hospital’s radio to respond.
“Go ahead 51.”
“Rampart we have a female, Kelly McMeyers, 22 years of age.” Cas transmits.
“BP is 129 over 80, O2 Saturation is…”
Dean places a hand over her chest, watching it rise and fall. Counting in his head. But scolding with the low number he came up with.
“Did you pack the pulse Oximeter?”
“I did.” Cas says, handing it to him.
“I got to double check before I give you the wrong number.”
Dean turned on the device, and placing it on her finger.
“Still reading low, O2 Sat, 85.” Dean says.
“O2 sat is 85. Temperature is coming up…”
Dean pulls out the thermometer.”
“105.” He reads.
“Temperature is 105.”
y/n was shocked she had a temperature that high.
“51, standby, a doctor will be with you shortly.”
“10-4.”
“I just don’t understand, she was fine at breakfast, it happened so suddenly.” The girl’s father expressed.
“Some of these things do happen rather quickly.”
“Could be the Asian Flu?” Chuck suggests. Playing with the girl’s pet monkey.
“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions until a doctor can see her.” Cas says.
“Kelly, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean asks.
The girl nods groggily.
“She’s really drowsy.” Cas mentions.
“Kelly, are you in any pain at all?” Dean asks.
“My head hurts, my chest hurts too.” She whines.
“She threw up a bit before you got here Winchester.” Chuck mentions.
“51, this is doctor Singer.”
“Rampart, we have new information, patient is experiencing head and chest pain, she’s drowsy and vomited a few times before we arrived.”
“Alright, start IV, lidocaine, two milligrams. And just in case what she has is contagious keep contact with the patient to an absolute minimum.”
“10-4 Rampart.” Cas says.
“I’ll get the IV going, if you want to get the ambulance here Chuck.”
“Already ahead of you, they should be here by now.”
Sirens are heard in the distance, as if on cue.
“How about that timing?” Cas says.
“Alright, she’s set, lets get her to the hospital.” Dean says.
Just as more paramedics came in, Dean grabbed the equipment as Cas walked out with the patient.
Chuck still petting the monkey.
“I love monkeys, bet he’d be a cute pet to have.” He says.
“Yeah, but they’re not meant to be pets Chuck.”
“Yeah, I know. But, cute little guy, isn’t he?”
The monkey sat on his pole that stood in the room. And the monkey started walking over to Dean, walking on his shoulder, messing with his hat.
“Hey, stop,” he told the monkey while trying to shake him off gently.
The monkey got back on his pole as Dean walked out to the squad.
At the hospital, Y/N, Doctor Singer assisted in the patient, Kelly McMeyer, as Doctor Singer preformed a spinal tap.
Just as he pulled out the needle, gathering spinal fluid, Doctor Kline walks in.
“What’d you got Bobby?”
“Possible strain of the flu, her symptoms are consistent with that of the Asian flu, but the incubation period is too fast. Her symptoms came up quick, she was fine at breakfast.”
“Do we know where she’s been lately?”
“All over southeast Asia, Kelly and her friends were part of her church’s mission trip in assisting kids in orphanages, and adoption homes. Fixing them up, helping kids get adopted. And her dad took her camping when she got back. Took her to the Black Hills in South Dakota.” y/n explained.
“That opens us up to a whole array of fevers, and of course flus. China is always riddled with noval viruses we’ve never seen nor dealt with. And of course, there’s ones we’ve dealt with her, rocky mountain spotted fever, lymes disease, or even parasitic infections. Fungal infections that could have originated from her camping trip.” Jack explained.
“Did Kelly have any kind of protection on either trip?” Jack asked.
“Her dad made sure she packed, bug spray, tick spray, and they had nets around their camp to prevent nats and other flying insects from getting in the tents.” Y/N says.
“So, in which case, we’re back to, what did she catch when she was in China. Because chances of her getting anything on the camping trip are slim I’m guessing.”
“Her dad was pretty adamant that they were covered for their trip. He didn’t want anyone getting sick.”
Jack nods.
“Let’s get some blood work, see if we can’t find the answer in there.”
“You got it doctor.” y/n says, getting her hands sanitized, and ready to draw some blood.
“Dean, your shift was done an hour ago, go home!” His father ordered.
“Just finishing up the logs for the day.”
“Cas can finish it up for you, he at least goes home in an hour. Now go.”
“Yes sir, you sure you got this man?” Dean asks.
“Dean, I got it. Go home and rest. See you in two days.”
Dean handed Cas the papers for logging their day, what all happened, their end result. He grabbed the keys to his Impala and drove on home.
He could tell he was exhausted. At a stop light he had to really will himself to stay awake just a few more miles.
But as he got to another stop light, he knew he was too tired to be driving.
Y/N’s apartment wasn’t far. He moved lanes before her street came up and Dean drove to her apartment. Giving her a call to make sure she was either up or home.
“Hey Handsome, how was your day?” she asked.
He could hear the background of the hospital.
“Exhausting. Are you still at work?”
“Yeah, another late one. Why? Are you in the area?” she asked. Sounding concerned.
“I’m really exhausted, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it home. I was thinking on crashing at your place.”
“You can stay there Dean; my key is by my hanging plant. I think your clothes from last time are still there.”
“Thanks baby, where would I be without you?”
“Dead in a ditch because you’ve run yourself ragged, now hurry to my place and get to bed. I’ll home when I can.”
“Love you sweetheart.” He says with a tired smile, pulling into her apartment complex.
“Love you more Winchester, sleep well.” She says.
He parked his car near where she parked. Walking up tiredly up to her apartment he found her key easily.
He headed inside, placing the key back but also locking up behind him as he got himself settled.
She had since gotten a new apartment since the plane crash; sure she was farther away from the hospital, but she was closer to him by several blocks.
He had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little bit better, but he climbed into his side in her bed. Pulling the covers over him, and falling fast asleep once his head hit the pillow.
She had hurried with her charting, her replacement nurse coming in late. But at least she showed up.
She hurried to her car to get on home.
She saw Dean’s car parked next to her spot on the street. She parked her car right behind his.
She quietly entered the apartment. Leaving the lights off she navigated to her room seeing his sleeping form in her bed. Sound asleep.
She made her shower quick and simple, washing off the stress of the day and relaxing enough so she could fall easily asleep.
She climbs into bed beside him. He tossed, turning towards her, wrapping his arms around her.
Poor dude was exhausted. But Dean was no fool, he loved being the little spoon. Maybe too much. But when it was her, he didn’t care too much.
Days followed, and the original patient began to go downhill. Her fever wasn’t breaking.
Y/N had finished getting Kelly’s vitals, updated her chart. She headed back out to the nurses station when she saw an ambulance dropping off a new patient.
“What do we have?” she asked.
“Fireman, Chuck Shirley. Stricken with a fever, 104 temp, slightly elevated BP.” One of the paramedics informed.
“He was fine at lunch time.” His wife said behind the paramedics.
“Are you his wife?” Y/N asked.
“I am, my name’s Becky.”
“Okay, I’ll escort you to the waiting room. I’ll keep you informed of your husbands situation.” y/n told her.
Becky nodded, and she was lead to the waiting room. Y/N walked back into one of the exam rooms.
Hours passed as the doctors looked over Chuck, they learned one thing in common.
He responded to Kelly McMeyers.
“I want everyone who responded to get checked out. Clearly we are up against something contagious.” Jack orders.
“I’ll get right on it.” y/n says.
As the day wore on, Y/N had called all the stations that responded, the ambulance and even called up her boyfriend personally.
“Afternoon beautiful.” Dean answers.
“Hey babe, you responded on the Kelly McMeyers right?”
“I did, me and Cas both, why?”
“Chuck Shirley is sick with the same symptoms as Kelly, and Dr. Kline has ordered you two to come in and get checked out.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Dean, Chuck looked bad. Come in, please.” She practically whined.
“Okay, I will. Don’t worry sweetheart. I have to come down for supplies anyway, I’ll bring Cas along.”
“Thank you. See you soon.”
Just as Dean and Cas left the hospital after giving their blood samples to be checked for any virus or uprising in white blood cell count. Questions rose to how and where the original patient got sick.
“Whatever this Kelly chick has must be bad.” Dean says as he drove back to the station.
“Must be, if she didn’t get while camping then where?” Cas asks.
For a beat there was a pause.
“The same place where she got her pet monkey.” Cas says.
“You really think that monkey is the carrier?” Dean asks, unsure.
“Think about it Dean. It’s always animals in other countries that carry all these scary viruses. Swine flu came from pigs. Avian flu came from birds. The Asian flu came from, well, Asia but it was ducks. What if, this monkey one of those viruses and was somehow able to transmit it overseas?” Cas explained.
“You should really be a doctor something, damn Cas.” Dean says, impressed with the information Cas was able to share.
“Also think of the movie Outbreak.”
“Dude, that wasn’t even a real virus.”
“No, but it was a real situation that can really happen. It’s the worst case scenario. But it was a monkey carrying a mutated version of the virus.”
“I think you’re onto something Cas.” Dean says, digging around in his pockets.
“Here, call my girlfriend, tell her what you told me.”
“Okay.” Cas says.
“Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s Cas, you got a minute?”
“How’s Dean?” she asked concerned right away.
“Oh, he’s fine, we were just talking about the victims. She brought home a pet monkey from China. And Chuck was playing with it.”
“That is actually something Cas, thanks. Is there anything else we need to know?”
“Not really, but just for the fact that this monkey might carry a virus that could kill Kelly and our friend.”
“And you’re spot on, on that. I’ll tell Jack and Bobby. Thanks Cas.”
At the hospital, the two doctors were at the nurses station when Cas called. Their attention on her when she seemed surprised with the information he given her.
“Cas of squad 51 just told me Kelly brought home a pet monkey from China. And that Chuck played with it.”
“That’s something, Bobby, get someone to go with Kelly’s dad back to his house. Get the monkey and bring the little guy in.”
“You got it Jack.”
Cas had handed Dean his phone back.
“You know, Cas,” he says.
Cas doesn’t say anything but has his attention.
“I kind of played with the monkey too.”
The next following day, Kelly was slowly getting better. But Chuck was taking a turn for the worse. His fever wasn’t breaking.
Jack goes into Kelly’s room to talk to her about her monkey.
A nurse was already in the room taking care of her.
“Abaddon why aren’t you wearing your mask?”
“Oh, sorry Doctor its just—”
“No excuses, you’re taking an unnecessary risk. Not only would you be putting your life at risk, you’re putting everyone else’s lives at risk as well.”
With that she put her mask over her mouth and nose.
“Kelly,” Jack says.
She opened her eyes slowly giving the doctor his attention.
“We got your pet down in the lab. Now, was he ever sick when you had him?”
“Yes, just after I bought him. He had a bad cold, and threw up a bit too.”
“Well in order to help the fireman, and you as well, we may have to put him down so we can perform an autopsy.”
“No, you can’t!” she cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without Oreo!”
“Kelly, it’s the only chance we have at saving lives.”
The tears that built up in the girls eyes fell. Jack took his gloved finger by her cheek, brushing away the tears that fell.
“If you’re right about that,” she swallows thickly. “Then you can take Oreo.”
“Could help you too Kelly.” Abaddon says.
“I know.”
Jack gave a sad smile through his mask.
He doffed off his PPE by the door and left her room to give the go ahead.
“Dean, we have a group of kids from Jefferson Elementary School to come in for a tour, can you help Gabe clean up the garage real quick.”
“Dad, I’m really exhausted, can you get Cas to do it?”
“It’s not like you to complain, come on now. He’s busy with the logs, come on it won’t take long.”
The alarm sounded.
“Never mind.” John says.
“Station 51, medical emergency. At the top of the Wells Fargo bank at 5535 Woodland Boulevard. Cross street Jackson Avenue.”
The men and women at station 51 jumped into action.
At the location they climbed up the stairs after they reached the max floor the elevator would allow to go.
“What happened?” John asked one of the men working on the roof.
“Jimmy was over the edge cleaning the windows and he let out a yell, and I saw him collapse. I tried getting him on this thing but it’s jammed.”
“We’ll get him, we’ll hoist one of my paramedics down to get a line on him and we’ll bring him up.” John assured.
“I’ll go.” Dean says.
“Why don’t we just swing the lift through a window?” Cas asks.
“There wouldn’t be a safe way to do it. Just, get me down to him. Drop a line for him and he’ll be up here before you can say Bobs your uncle.” Dean says.
“Just be careful man.” Cas says.
“I will dude.”
Dean has the ropes around him, his harness, Gabe, Michael and Raphael anchored his rope as they helped lower him down.
“Okay, more slack!” Dean shouts as he got closer to the victim.
He got safely on to the lift and began to work the rope around the victim so they could lift him up.
But Dean’s vision began to spin. His hands came up to hold the support of the lift.
“Dean, you okay!?” Cas shouts from the ledge.
“Yeah!”
Dean hurries to get the rope around the victim and tries to work on tying the knot.
His dizziness got worse, and worse. Just as he was about to ask for help, Dean passes out.
His body falling off of the lift, and hangs by his harness off of the ledge.
“Try lifting him up a bit!” Cas ordered.
The three brothers tried pulling the rope slightly.
Cas could see Dean wasn’t getting any higher.
“No, stop, he’s tangled. I’m gonna have to head down there.” Cas says.
He heads over to Charlie who handed him some rope, getting the lopes around him, and working his harness on.
Cas hurries over the ledge.
Gabe, Michael, and Raphael tied Dean’s rope to hold him steady as they lowered Cas down to the lift.
“More slack!” Cas ordered as he got closer.
Cas removed his work gloves to check the victims pulse.
“He’s in full cardiac arrest!” Cas shouts out, communicating.
Cas finishes what Dean had going. Connecting the loops around the victims arms and legs making a makeshift harness.
“Okay, lift him up!” Cas calls out.
The victim slowly rising as Gab, Michael and Raphael pulled the rope lifting the victim up.
“Dean, can you hear me man?” Cas asked, trying to lift Dean onto the lift.
He didn’t respond. He was out cold.
Cas furrowed his brow as he grew concerned for his friend.
“Okay, lift him up!” Cas ordered.
Cas seen the original victim made it over the ledge safely. And Dean began to slowly rise up to the top.
Once everyone was safely up, they got Cas up as well.
Cas helped with the cardiac victim while Charlie and the others assisted with Dean.
Y/N sat at the nurses station charting her days work about ready to head home when an ambulance and squad approached the door.
She quickly typed up her report, saving it and sending it to her Director, she went to assist the paramedics.
Her heart dropped when she saw one of the patients being wheeled in.
“Dean.”
“Patient one was DOA, heart attack. Dean has a fever of 104.” Cas says.
“Okay, there’s an exam room open, lets get him in there. I’ll page Dr. Singer.”
“Where’s Jack?” Cas asked.
“He’s sick too. He was about to treat Kelly and Chuck when he collapsed. His fever is 103 and climbing.”
“How is Chuck?”
“Not doing well. Let’s focus on Dean please.” Y/N said, keeping the tears of fear at bay.
Dean was all settled in a room later that night.
“Y/N.” Bobby says as he entered Dean’s room.
“Dr. Singer.”
“Your director doesn’t want you treating him. It’s against ethics.”
“I know. I’m off the clock.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
“Oh, forgive me for staying by my boyfriend’s side.”
“Y/N, you’re D.O.N is on the other side of the this door. Relax.” He whispered.
“Bobby, I can’t think straight right now. I want to stay by his side, if that’s alright.”
“You can’t just stop everything because he’s sick. The CDC got back to us on the virus, you know this. It’s a strain of the Asian flu, a newer mutated strain. We have a drug we can use.”
She sighs, rubbing her face hard, trying to not get frustrated with herself.
“I know. I just want to know he’s going to be okay is all.”
“You love him. I know. But you have to still live life. Because that don’t stop. You got to keep going kid.”
She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t stay with him due to isolation protocol.”
“You got it. but once he’s better, you can.” She nods again.
“Please, keep me in the loop with him.”
“I’m sure Meg will. Cas was already on her case about him.”
She chuckles with a nod.
“Go home and rest. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”
She nods, leaving with a slump in her shoulders. Heading to her car. Driving quietly home.
It wasn’t until she got out of her shower, and laid in her empty bed did she let her walls come crumbling down.
A sob escaped from her, shaking her to her core.
“God, Dean. Please be okay.” She sobbed.
The next day, she heads into work trying to focus on her patients.
She learned from one of the over night nurses that Chuck passed away.
Her anxiety already being high enough with her boyfriend being sick with the same virus, but the same virus that killed a fireman.
She headed up to Dean’s room where Meg walked out. Sweating after being in her PPE for some period of time.
“How is he?” she asks.
“Not good. His fever is not even breaking. He had the first 100 Milligrams of Idoxuridine.”
“Has it been two hours?”
“Close, it’s been about an hour and fifty minutes since last dose.”
“Give him another dose of it. Same for Jack if he’s not getting better.”
“Sure thing, I’m sure Bobby will understand.”
Y/N nodded as Meg went back inside to give Dean another dose of the drug.
Y/N headed back to the nurses station to chart her first half of the shift when her D.O.N approached the desk.
“Y/N, I was told you were by Dean’s room yet again. This time on the clock.”
“Sorry Jody, I just—”
“It’s okay, really. Bobby can be a hard ass sometimes, and I know I can be too. But my husband gets sick really easily. And I’d do the same thing you’re doing.” She says.
“Thank you…” she hesitates.
“I have your replacement coming in so you can see him and be with him. Once Donna gets here, go to him.”
“Thank you, thank you.” She says, as tears rise to the surface.
“It’s not a problem.” Jody smiles.
Days pass as the doctors and nursing staff cared for Dean and Jack for the virus.
Y/N stayed day and night, her D.O.N giving her the week off on FMLA.
She had lost track of the days when she finally allowed herself to sleep.
Kelly was fully recovered and the doctors and nursing staff encouraged her to donate some blood so they can use her antibodies in her blood to donate to Dean and Jack so they have a fighting chance.
His fever finally broke, he was getting better. She could close her eyes and he’d still be there.
She woke that night to a hand on her head, playing with her hair.
She stirred awake to find Dean awake and well.
“Hey.” She says tiredly.
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He answers. “Babe, did you stay here all day?”
“Dean, it’s been a week. You’ve been out for a week.”
“Damn…but still, you’ve been here all week?”
“Yes. You scared me.” She says. Taking his hand and placing it on her cheek.
His thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Catching a tear that fell.
“Well I’m sorry for scaring you. But you’re worrying me, did you take care of yourself while you were here?”
“Not really. Haven’t been hungry. I’m not sick or anything.”
“I know, you’ve told me that you’ll get this way. Either in a good way, like an innocent way of binging your favorite show and forgot to eat. Or in a bad way, like this.”
“Let me get Meg and tell her you’re awake.”
Just as she says that, Meg comes walking in.
“Jack’s awake…oh Dean’s awake too.” She says.
“Yeah, he is.” Y/N Says tiredly.
“I’ll get Dr. Singer so we can see when you can go home. And get Y/N to a bed, she hasn’t slept much since she stayed here.”
“Really, not eating or sleeping.”
“She was worked up. who could blame her?” Meg asked.
“True.”
Meg left the room to get Bobby.
Dean not saying a word, pulls Y/N’s arm guiding her in the bed with him.
She happily got in, curling into his side.
He felt a residual tremble shudder through her body.
“Shh, I’m here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He says.
Not even a tiny virus would tear up this team.
~
A/N: Did you enjoy? How are you liking it so far? Favorites yet? Feedback is fuel and much appreciated. :3
~
Dean Girls:
@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24
~
Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/23/2021
#spn#supernatural#spn au#firefighter!au#firefighter!dean x nurse!reader#dean x reader#firefighter!Dean x Reader#dean x reader fic#firefighter!dean x reader fic#firefighter!dean x nurse!reader fic#spn fan fic#spnfanfic#spn fanfic#supernatural fan fic#supernatural fanfic#supernaturalfanfic#spn fan fiction#spn fanfiction#spnfanfiction#supernatural fan fiction#supernatural fanfiction#supernaturalfanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader fic#emergency!
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High - Part 7
This was going to be more than one part, but they really aren’t worth it on their own, so these three scenes are going together.
Please note the tags
The demand came in from The Hood just as promised. Another pre-recorded message instead of a live broadcast for it to assumed that everything had gone according to his plan. What the bastard wanted was quite exhaustive: schematics for the Thunderbirds, developmental logs for a few key pieces of technology and the details of every International Rescue operative. That much data could have been used to cripple them, sabotage them or even weaponised if in the wrong hands. They idly debated back and forth if The Hood meant to do one of those himself or sell it to the highest bidder.
EOS forwarded the message to the GDF with a little bit of information of her own since she had not been allowed outside the islands’ systems for a more thorough investigation: a few snippets of code she’d found that hinted at The Hood’s current location. Other than that, they ignored the man and continued their anxious wait.
-----
“Penny’s on the way back, she’s got the treatment for him.” Virgil said, to the relief assembled family.
“That’s great! Did the they work out exactly what is was?” Alan sat forward in his chair.
“Not exactly, but close enough to come up with something. But it comes with a complication.” Virgil frowned at his data pad. Nothing was ever simple for them.
“What sort of complication?” Scott asked, all business.
“The last four days have put an immense strain on John’s heart.” Current heart rate was nearing two hundred and fifty beats per minute and Virgil didn’t go anywhere on the island without a live readout of his stats in case they spiked. Or crashed. “We can give him the antidote in one dose and that should return it to normal in as little as twenty minutes. Or we can give it to him more gradually and bring him out of it in about forty eight hours.”
"Why would we wait that long?” Scott asked, weighing up the choices.
“Because at the same time that his heart rate – and everything else – is returning to normal his body will start to break down the remains of the drug. He’s effectively coming down off a prolonged high. If he comes down fast the side effects will be brutal, I’m talking really bad.” Virgil was scrolling through a list of the possible side effects and to say they were numerous was an understatement. In theory John could suffer from every withdrawal symptom under the sun. “If he comes down slow they will be much less intense but.....“ Virgil trailed off. They all knew the possible consequences of his current situation.
“Do it quick.” Gordon said, not his usual smiling self. “The withdrawal is going to be a bitch -” his mouth twisted, he’d had a lot of experience being on and off various strong medications after his accident “-but it’s better than the alternative.”
A wave of nods washed around the room. They were used to dealing with helping each other through difficult situations, this would just be one more on the list.
----
Scott was there when John woke up a few hours later, and didn’t bother to hide the relief when his little brother focused on him properly for the first time in far too long. His temperature had come down to normal and his heart rate was still a little elevated but at least it was no longer dangerous. They’d even packed away the defib.
“How long?” John asked, voice scratchy, trying to sit up but finding himself weak and shaky, hooked up to a multitude of machines, IV line flapping with his hand.
“Don’t do that, you’ll dislodge the needle.” John’s arms were already covered in bruises from the multiple insertions. “You’ve been out nearly four days total.” Scott pushed him back down and John let him. “So don’t rush it.”
Scott filled him in on The Hood’s plan. How they had sent the digital paper trail to the GDF while ignoring it themselves completely. How John had effectively under the influence of a dozen narcotics at the same time. How they’d been monitoring him for a heart attack or a stroke. How he would soon go into withdrawal.
“That... that doesn’t sound good.” John muttered, craning to look at the nearest vitals monitor. Scott spun it around in exasperation: John didn’t need to see that right now.
“No. The next few days are going to be rough for you John and we’re not quite sure in what way.”
John closed his eyes shut and Scott was alert in an instant.
“You in pain?”
“No, just tired. Feel like I’ve been run over by a bus.” John opened his eyes again, exhaustion warring with a stubbornness Scott couldn’t help but admire, as many headaches as it caused. John never stopped looking for a solution, no matter how many sleepless nights it cost. That determination had pulled them out of a sticky situation on more than one occasion but would do more harm than good now.
“Then get some rest.” Scott tucked the blanket round John’s feet a little tighter and John settled into his pillow a little deeper: that’s how Scott knew it was bad.
“You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you.” It wasn’t a question from John, nestled in the bed and looking drained from their short conversation. John knew him better than that, but Scott didn’t want to go into that right now, didn’t want to verbalise what he was prepared to do if the GDF came up empty.
“Don’t worry about that. Sleep if you can.”
John nodded and closed his eyes again.
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Overpowered Part 3 (Branjie)-athena2
A/N: Thank you all for the great feedback on Chapter 2! This chapter is a little angsty, but I hope you like it! Any feedback you have would be amazing, it really means a lot to me.
***This chapter has a mild panic attack, implied abuse, and discussion of medication.***
I also made some Brooke and Vanessa moodboards for this fic! Find them on my tumblr @buffywhovianpotterlock.
I’m surprised you’re still functioning.
We made the drugs that made you.
Precious little Frost.
She throws the weighted blanket off with a sigh, Vanessa following. “Can’t sleep either?”
Brooke shakes her head.
“I want to read it now.” She’s been tossing and turning since she told Vanessa she was ready, and she’s ready now. She has to know. She digs through her dresser.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. You’ll do it with me? Please?”
Brooke can lift a car over her head, but nothing could ever be heavier than this folder.
“Of course.” They drop down at the kitchen table.
Brooke has been picturing this moment since she asked Nina for advice, the older woman’s voice filling her head.
The file might give you some closure. But, given what happened last time, it’s likely it could cause another flashback. We could look at it here, or you can do it on your own if you’d like, but be aware you might respond negatively.
It’s what she figured Nina would say, an answer that wasn’t really an answer.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay? Promise?” Vanessa asks, grabbing her hand.
“Promise.”
Her free hand flips the folder open. The vaguely familiar words burn her eyes as she wades through medical terms of the injuries from the plane crash last March. A broken leg, broken arm, 3 broken ribs, collapsed lung, internal bleeding, and several cuts to her body. Does she feel the pain from those broken bones now, or is she imagining it? She touches the thick white scar on her chest absently.
She suddenly remembers a drainage tube between her ribs (she has a small scar there too) and the long scar down her chest, and white tabs stuck to her skin, connected to monitors that beeped piercingly, and pain like someone had carved her chest open and pieced it together with Scotch tape. Then the doctor put something in her IV, and it all went black.
“You good?”
Brooke jumps. She’d forgotten Vanessa was there. “Yeah. So far it’s just what happened after the crash.”
Subject name removed from flight list. No survivors. Flight list not released, subject will be presumed dead if any inquiries. Subject’s public records here (pgs 2-8), scrubbed from databases.
She turns the page. Scans of her birth certificate and driver’s license. She’s Canadian? A fight between her and Vanjie runs through her head, Vanjie grinning and teasing her for saying “soar-y”.
Newspaper clippings. Maybe there’s something about her before, or her family— she hits two obituaries. Her parents. She can’t read the rest. She just can’t.
Brooke should feel something, she knows she should. But she can’t remember. Nothing at all, not even a flash. It’s just an empty space inside her where she knows the memories should be.
She moves on hastily. Hytes New Co-Director of Toronto Ballet Company. She remembers the feeling of her feet in ballet shoes, but co-director?
The clippings are ghosts of her old life and she can’t take the haunting anymore. Brooke moves to lists of dates, starting when they took her and continuing until this summer. Her dosages, her exams, her training, her missions. The first rows cover her progress healing and responding to the drugs. Drugs that the two men she met hours ago had made for her and countless others. Her stomach twists painfully and she jumps ahead.
5/30/2018: Subject at healthy weight, physically approved to begin training. 10% accuracy with ice blasts.
Brooke remembers the row of bright red targets. His voice thunders in her ears. “You have until October to get half those targets.” It’s a command.
8/13/2018: Subject having nightmares, inquiring about old life. Subject sedated, given 100mg dosage in IV overnight. Had no memory of asking questions after waking.
She skips over training logs, punishments, and medical data. It’s like reading about someone else. She has vague images of the events, but they’re getting stronger and clearer as she reads.
10/1/2018: Subject achieved 65% target accuracy, no punishment required.
“Maybe that’s enough.”
“I’m f-fine.”
11/19/2018: Training complete. 100% accuracy, blast strength increased. Dosage (10mg) steady and effective. Subject compliant and approved for field missions.
It’s all here. Labs she’d broken into. Weapons and technology she’d stolen. Every injury, every new drug sample. Records of fights with Black Diamond, with Shuga Rush, with–her heart skips a beat–Vanjie.
And the last one. The very last one before Vanessa saved her and took her away from them.
7/7/2019: Vitals steady. Subject compliant. Dosage to remain doubled until further notice.
“Brooke?” She can hardly hear Vanessa.
“These are all the bad things I did. ”
“Baby, no. Those things weren’t you.”
She shakes her head, heart straining her chest.
“You want to make us proud on your first mission, don’t you?”
She nods.
“Remember, if you fail, that’s bad. You know what happens when you’re bad.”
“I won’t fail, General.”
“Brooke!”
Her lungs are on fire, burning all her air. 5 things she can see.
She sees the kitchen wall across from her but it’s tilted–Vanessa is holding her tightly, stopping her from falling off the chair she’s half-out of. She pulls herself upright, eyes absorbing the wooden table as her breathing slows.
“Are you okay?” Vanessa tenderly brushes sweaty hair off Brooke’s forehead.
“Y-Yeah.”
“You need to get some sleep.”
“So do you,” Brooke says quietly. All Vanessa does is take care of her, worry about her, and Brooke knows she hasn’t done enough to help, especially with the vision. Vanessa’s been through bad shit like her and is suffering in ways Brooke can’t imagine, but she’s always so strong, iron forged in fire–
“Less thinking, more sleeping,” Vanessa insists, leading Brooke to bed.
Their bodies intertwine under the blankets, but neither sleeps.
—
“Brooke, come here!” Vanessa yells around a mouthful of pumpkin brownie, tapping on the window.
On the street below, a sea of kids in bright colors weave in and out of pumpkins and decorations. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to look at, until-
“Are they…”
Vanessa nods.
Two little girls head down the sidewalk. One wears a red suit with a V on the chest, the other in familiar royal blue, and she can just see the neon F.
“We’re legit heroes now, baby,” Vanessa grins, but her tears mirror Brooke’s own.
Their lips meet and Vanessa tastes like chocolate.
She thinks it’s the first time they’ve both forgotten about the vision.
—
There’s been small earthquakes and electrical damage around the city, but no sightings of Quake or Shockwave.
Their nights are spent tackling common criminals beneath an inky sky.
She watches Vanjie scream at robbers and would-be murderers while desperately beating the crap out of them like it’s the only thing reminding her she’s still alive. The only thing keeping her alive.
Vanessa is suffering but Brooke has no idea how to help.
It’s like watching someone drown but being unable to save them.
Vanessa isn’t eating. Her eyes are rimmed with shadows. Her skin is painted purple and blue from all the fighting.
She doesn’t want to talk about it, and Brooke doesn’t want to force her.
Vanessa is close to breaking, and as much as Brooke wants to shatter, she can’t.
Sometimes she can’t even look at Vanessa without wanting to cry because she may never see her again.
Brooke’s heart is made of glass, but she needs to let it ice over before Vanessa burns herself out.
Because even though they have time, Brooke feels like she’s losing Vanessa already.
—
It’s probably a stupid idea, but it has A’Keria’s blessing, so there’s hope.
Brooke works while Vanessa showers. She moves chairs and couch cushions and blankets until she has a sturdy blanket fort. She arranges fluffy pillows underneath, lays out the potato-chip cookies she’d made, and gets The Notebook set up.
Brooke is waiting when she emerges from the bathroom in her pajamas. “I have a surprise,” she says, covering Vanessa’s eyes. “Sorry about the cold hands.”
“I’m used to it. And there better not be any haunted house shit in here. Halloween’s over.”
“Nothing scary, I promise.” She removes her hands and watches Vanessa’s eyes get big, Brooke’s heart growing with them.
“Brooke.” Her hand goes to her mouth. “How did you…A’Keria,” she answers herself as she slides under the fort. “Damn. I love you so much. I don’t know how I got this lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Brooke says as she nestles beside her. “So, um, I wanted to ask how you’re doing? Be honest.”
Vanessa shrugs and stares at the cookies. Brooke’s never seen her at such a loss for words. “I…I don’t know. I’m pissed–not at Yvie, it’s not her fault–but at everything, I guess, and I’m confused and sad and really fucking tired of it all, honestly.”
Brooke nods. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But if you want to talk-”
“I know you want to help, but I don’t want to talk. Please.” Her voice gets small and Brooke’s heart aches for her. “I usually love screaming about my problems and feelings and shit, and I know everyone thinks it’ll help to talk about it, but I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“It’s fine,” she sighs. “I just want to watch this movie and have you hold me.”
“Of course.” She presses play as Vanessa curls into her side, Brooke’s arms steadying around her, feeling how tense she is.
It didn’t go quite as she planned, but Vanessa falls asleep with a smile on her face, so it wasn’t a total failure.
—
“You seem a little distracted. Anything you want to talk about?” Nina’s voice drips with concern and Brooke wants to tell her. She should tell her.
She shrugs, fingers digging into the squeeze ball.
“Anything at all?”
“Meds,” Brooke mumbles, finally bringing them up like she’d told Vanessa she would a month ago.
“Something in particular about them?”
Another shrug.
“Can you give me a little something to go on?” Nina asks gently.
“I think I want to take them,” Brooke says eventually, eyes on her lap.
If Nina is surprised, she hides it well. “Okay. Did something happen that caused you to want them? You seem a little hesitant, and I want to make sure you’re confident and comfortable before I prescribe anything.”
She’s about to shrug again when she can’t keep it quiet anymore. “I…I’m just sick of it! I’m sick of sweating in the grocery store and thinking I’m gonna have a heart attack when I leave the house! I’m sick of the panic attacks and the headaches and not sleeping and I…” The outburst quickly drains her and her next words are a whisper. “I just want to be better.”
Nina is quiet.
“I’m s–I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to.”
“You don’t have to apologize for feeling.” Nina pauses. “Brooke, I’m so incredibly proud of you. I want to say that first because I think you need to hear it.”
Tears spring in Brooke’s eyes. Nina was proud of her.
“I understand why you’re upset, and why you’re scared. Anyone would be after what you’ve been through. But if you feel ready, I do think medication would help you.”
“But if I…” Her voice trembles as she releases a fear she hasn’t even told Vanessa. “If I take them, doesn’t it mean I’m not good enough? That I’m weak?”
“Oh, Brooke,” Nina says softly, and her eyes look slightly damp. “Not at all. You’re doing so well. There’s absolutely no shame in needing help. Asking for help and taking medication shows how strong you are, how hard you’re working to get better.”
Nina passes her the tissues and Brooke no longer hides her tears. “I’m ready,” she confirms.
Nina smiles. “There’s one more thing I want you to try.”
Brooke raises an eyebrow.
“I want you to try not to apologize when you’re here.”
Nina might as well have asked her to pilot a rocketship.
“I know it’s a lot, and I don’t expect you to do it immediately,” Nina amends at Brooke’s bewildered expression. “It’s just something I want you to try.”
Brooke nods.
“And Happy Thanksgiving!” Nina crows.
—
She and Vanessa wake at sunrise.
“Please tell me you don’t play Monopoly on Thanksgiving,” Brooke begs as they season the turkey.
“Oh no, that’s for birthdays only.”
“Thank God.”
“On Thanksgiving and Christmas we do bingo.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Mmm, you haven’t played with Silk. The bitch uses six cards. She used to keep a marker in her pocket and change the numbers. And she has to call out the numbers herself because she doesn’t trust us.”
“So I guess I’ll hide the valuables?”
Vanessa laughs and kisses her cheek.
Brooke knows what she’s thankful for.
—
Silk barges in an hour early presenting her sweet potato casserole like it’s made of gold.
“Thank God we got Brooke to make the pies. Last year A’Keria was in her health-food phase and tried to poison us with low-fat nonsense,” Silk grumbles. “I almost wasted away.”
“And she brought that green shit white people love,” Vanessa adds.
“Kale?” Brooke guesses.
“That’s it.”
“She better not mess with my mashed potatoes. Last year she put cauliflower in them. Says you can’t taste the difference. Believe me,” Silk pats her chest proudly, “I can taste it.”
—
“Everything good here?” A’Keria checks, glancing at the food covering every inch of counter surface.
“Yeah, I just hope Scarlet and Yvie like it.”
“Girl, you could go on the Food Network,” she declares, pointing to the pie-crust leaves on top of the pumpkin pie. “Everyone’s gonna love it.” A’Keria pats her arm in reassurance and the calm runs through her immediately. Brooke smiles in thanks, and A’Keria winks.
—
“A’Keria, these potatoes are so good. What the hell is in them?” Yvie asks and Silk nods with her mouth full of them.
“Just butter and cream.” She pauses, grinning devilishly at Silk. “And cauliflower.”
Silk almost chokes. “You lying hoe!” She grabs a serving spoon and chases A’Keria around the table while the rest of them roar with laughter.
Brooke catches Vanessa’s eye, and she knows they’re thinking the same thing: Please don’t ever let this end.
—
After a 2-hour bingo game resulting in 3 ripped cards, 2 spilled cups of coffee, one marker hurled out the window, Yvie flinging whipped cream in Scarlet’s hair, Silk almost swallowing a bingo ball, Brooke launching walnut shells like missiles, and Vanessa’s pumpkin pie fork nearly taking out A’Keria’s eye, everyone heads home.
“Brooke, I almost forgot,” Silk says as she leaves. “That Plastique girl? I found her.”
—
She bounces her leg in her and Vanessa’s favorite coffee shop, because Nina had suggested they go somewhere she felt comfortable.
“You okay?” Vanessa asks. Brooke felt fine doing this without Nina, but there’s no way she’s doing it without Vanessa, even though Brooke feels guilty for dragging her along to something about her when they could be focusing on Vanessa.
“Yeah. It’s…she knew me before, you know? Not me now. And I’m not who I used to be. I don’t even know who I used to be.”
“Well, maybe you can’t focus on who you were. Because you are who you are now, and you don’t need to be anyone else. And for the record, I like who you are now a whole lot,” Vanessa bats her eyelashes and Brooke feels warmth spread through her.
Plastique looks exactly like she did in Brooke’s dreams–long black hair and a face so delicate it could be a doll’s.
She bursts into tears when she sees Brooke, touching her arm like she can’t believe she’s real. Which she probably can’t, Brooke realizes. She thought I was dead.
She gives Plastique the Silk-approved story: Brooke survived the plane crash with severe memory loss, met Vanessa, and has been trying to regain her memory. It’s not a total lie, but Brooke still sweats as she tells it, even though Plastique believes it and cries again halfway through.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t look for you. They said no one survived and I never thought…”
“Of course you didn’t. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“Brooke, it’s my fault you were on the plane,” Plastique says suddenly, voice thick.
“What do you mean?”
“I was supposed to be on it, but there was a mix-up and there wasn’t enough seats, so I was gonna take a later flight. You wanted to stay with me, but I told you to go…”
For just a second, Brooke considers how easy it would be. To blame Plastique, to have someone to hate for putting her on that plane and in the lab’s hands. But she can’t. It’s not Plastique’s fault, just like it’s not her fault. Nina always tells her it’s no one’s fault but the lab’s, and it’s never felt as true as it does now.
“No,” Brooke says firmly. “Nina–she’s my psychiatrist–she told me if you wouldn’t blame someone else for something, you shouldn’t blame yourself for it either. It wasn’t your fault, I promise you,” Brooke’s voice is fierce as she grips Plastique’s hand.
Plastique nods, wiping her tears.
Plastique had been an intern at the ballet company that Brooke was co-director of. Brooke had danced professionally with the same company for 6 years. She was leaving on her first tour as co-director when the plane went down.
Vanessa’s eyes silently ask if she remembers any of this. She remembers twirling across a stage, costumes light against her skin. She remembers feeling free.
Plastique pulls out her phone. “Here’s a picture of you when you danced.”
Brooke sees herself on the screen but can’t quite believe it’s her. She’s in white from her tiara to her pointe shoes, lacey costume on her lean body, hair pulled into a bun. She looks confident, so far from the Brooke who flinches at loud noises and stutters when ordering food that they’re hardly the same person.
“I’m loving this short hair on you, girl. You cut it right before the tour. I’m glad you kept it,” Plastique says.
Brooke’s never thought about it. It was short when she woke up at the lab, and they had kept it like that so it wasn’t in the way for her training or their medical exams. She likes it short and A’Keria trims it for her.
They talk for another hour, and Plastique promises to keep in touch.
Brooke is quiet on the way home, her mind buzzing.
“You alright?” Vanessa asks. “That was probably a lot, huh?”
She nods. She doesn’t know if she should miss the Brooke in that picture when she doesn’t really know that person. She doesn’t know if she should try to be more like that Brooke.
She thinks of what Vanessa said. Maybe it’s not about who she was. Maybe she doesn’t need to be anyone else.
Just being herself is enough.
—
The last day of November dawns unusually bright.
Brooke stands over the sink with a pill in her hand. She looks out the window and her stomach drops, pill slipping through her fingers.
She feels the urge to run outside, let the flakes melt on her tongue, let the cold steal her breath and freeze her cheeks.
But she doesn’t.
Because it’s the first snowfall of the season, and they’re running out of time.
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#branjie#angst#hurt/comfort#lesbian au#superhero au#overpowered#athena2#tw mild panic attack#tw implied abuse#concrit welcome#submission
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hullo here's the Longass Brooklyn Nine Nine Sanders Sides AU One Person Asked For and I Desperately Wanted an Excuse to Do ahhhHHH ive talked about this so many times but im happy to do it again because i love both these fandoms GENERAL: - they work in new york at the ninety ninth precinct as detectives - the youngest is roman, followed by virgil, then patton and then logan - thomas is in this AU but not as a detective PATTON: - think charles "washing your partner's hair is the most romantic thing you can do with your fingers" mother-hen boyle - ...minus his tendencies to talk about his frankly disgusting sex life. - he loves everyone and would do anything to protect them. even if that means taking a bullet for them. he's ALWAYS on virgil's side no matter what, and would follow him to the ends of the earth - oh my god okay virgil and patton having a jake-rosa type friendship. they met in the academy and have been looking out for each other ever since. - the only time anyone's seen patton angry is when virgil got shot. the wound wasn't too bad - more of a graze really - but he had to be held back for charging after the shooter unarmed - patton seems innocent, but nothing slips past him. the arrestees try to make fun of him but he never cracks. - one time he just talked about his day with someone he arrested in the interrogation room until they finally give up and confess to "STOP HEARING ABOUT FUCKING RAINBOWS" - he's one of the best at getting confessions, but the worst at anything athletic. he has two left feet, but is scarily accurate with a gun. (the others don't know this, and patton refuses to tell them.) - he's single but wants a kid. logan doesn't know, but when he leaves his office patton sneaks in to talk to his son (explained later) - veryyyy pan and open about it relationships: - virgil, i've already discussed. they're the tightest best friends (and most protective) that you've ever seen. patton adores virgil and often, finds him crashing at his place at 3 in the morning. patton doesn't mind, since it means virgil has finally given in and quit working for the day. - with roman, patton isn't as intense with his worrying but he is ALWAYS concerned about him. patton hates seeing him get hurt - and even worse, getting shit for being gay. patton has gotten quite a few close-minded cops fired. often, patton's the only one roman will turn to when he's going through a rough patch. - patton respects logan. it took a while for them to warm up to each other but now it's not uncommon to see pat seated inside logan's office (who has tried and failed to get patton to call him Captain Sanders. pat may be respectful but "captain" isn't in his vocabulary unless it's applied to pirates") LOGAN: - the captain of the detective squad. he was the newest addition to the ro-pat-virge friendship and took the longest to get along with them. - he's very much a holt - a frickin genius, bad at expressing emotions but understands them and incredibly... extra. - he loves annoying roman because his detective often has no clue he's doing it on purpose. virgil has more of an idea, but he's still clueless in logan's opinion. - for someone so strict, he's incredibly relaxed when it comes to any of the three using his office for games such as "who can do the most accurate and offensive impression of one of the other suckers outside this room" - more often than not he's walked in to see roman moving robotically and using sophisticated words... incorrectly. that bugs logan more than the terrible robot impression. - he loves puzzles and analysing people. however, he's slightly ashamed of the fact that he has a psychology degree. - logan's divorced and has a fifteen year old kid named thomas. rarely - very rarely - the others catch a glimpse of the teen being brought into his office by a strange woman and logan trying his best to entertain the kid all day. his worst fear is thomas being hurt because of him - he's asexual and demi(homo)romantic, but he's not open about it. he's only told roman - and that was when ro convinced him to go to the annual precinct party and he got a little drunk. relationships: - he trusts patton the most, but is closest with roman. something about his infuriating detective makes him interested in hearing whatever dramatic adventure roman went on that day. plus, he's incredibly fun and easy to get riled up. through roman's influence he's allowed himself to get closer with everyone and relax a tiny smidge. - patton, he adores. the detective is so bubbly and so much more complex than logan originally credited. patton insists on heart-to-hearts which end up with logan revealing the truth about thomas and patton saying he already knew, and explaining that he always plays with him. logan admires patton's charisma, but loathes how easily he trusts everyone. one day, patton's gonna get hurt doing that. - with virgil, they're the Salty Bros. logan finds himself sharing virgil's dislike of small talk and worry over patton. they think he'll be taken advantage of. anyways, he walked in one of virgil's panic attacks and talked him through it. ever since, virgil goes to him if not patton and logan closes his blinds and shuts his office for the rest of the day. no one is allowed in unless it's life or death as he cares for virge as delicately as possible. virgil's the second to be (accidentally) introduced to his kid because of this. VIRGIL: - he's the hardest working out of the lot of them and, when trying to solve a particularly tough case, almost refuses to go home. by day three patton intervenes and drags him to his house and forces him to sleep. - he hates people getting hurt. he blames himself every single time - it's a habit that logan tries to get him out of. patton doesn't know (or so he thinks) and roman, well, roman's the same. - virgil's sort of like an amy/gina fusion (discussed with sam). he starts off not really caring about anyone apart from patton who he's known forever, but now he'd die for them. often, he tries to take bullets (both literally and figuratively) for them. roman hates this and once, the time virgil got hit, he took refused to look at him until he finally exploded and yelled at him for risking himself like that - logan and patton steered clear of that argument and let them work it out. it ended with ro and virge crying but reconciled. - virgil is uncomfortable around young kids because he's afraid he'll somehow hurt them or teach them a new swear, but with teenagers he knows to either let them rant or mutually ignore each other on their phones. (it doesn't apply to thomas though - which struck virgil as odd. maybe more on that later?) - he's... not straight. that's all he knows and everyone thinks he's just closed about it, but they know he's not straight too. relationships: - closest with patton and trusts him the most. they've kissed once in the rush of the moment and it frustrates him that patton never brings it up (but then again, that's such a relief because virgil can't deal with emotions). above all, they're best friends. have been for what feels like forever. virgil loves patton more than anything (take that any way you want because virge can't tell which way it is either) - he and roman are the dramatic pair. somehow there's always Something crazy to talk about whenever they see each other. roman is like a brother to virgil - they fight, sure, but at the end of the day, they would kill anyone who hurt the other. - he loves complaining about things with logan. he also loves teasing him over every little thing - but logan returns it with sniping comebacks. virgil loves these. he helps logan stop stressing and is often the one who invites him out to places, knowing what it feels like to be excluded. he rants about the State of the World™ and logan pitches in with his own bits of wisdom. to virgil, logan is a comforting presence. he seems invincible to virgil (until the day thomas insults logan out of Teen Angst™™™ and his captain shuts off completely, unmoving and unable to stop virgil panicking). ROMAN: - athletic, sassy and incredibly talented. he was the first to the precinct but is the youngest (but shhh, the others are unaware considering he refuses to have a birthday party). he's the tallest though, and loves teasing them for it. - he may be gay af but he flirts with anyone his age, and often virgil or logan has to drag roman away from the holding cell ("i was just asking for proof of identity!" "you asked for his number." "...his social security number!!!") - He Has A Boyfriend (no one knows who it is. it's an open polyamorous relationship and boyfriend singular is an understatement. they'll stop by but because it's not the same consistent boyfriend the others just haven't made the connection) - he's only been broken up with once. it was his first ever longterm boyfriend, and it was a few months after he became apart of the ninety-ninth precinct. virgil saw and that's how that started talking - with virge awkwardly comforting a stranger shoving chocolate into his mouth. - roman once had to go undercover but only logan knows this (since he knows everything about everyone, not because he sent ro on it). when he came back, patton was the newest member of the squad and virgil hung around him and only him. it was lonely as fuck, but roman had learnt during his time undercover that your real emotions could never be shown. he employs dramatic gestures and sugared words to destroy the memories of the things he's done. if the world loves him, maybe he'll love himself one day. relationships: - he and virgil have since reconnected. roman lied about why he was gone for so long and virge let the topic drop. he goes to virgil to help patch him up after a chase because he knows his friend wouldn't spill. roman's bitter about virgil's relationship with patton because he was replaced, but he won't say anything. he has to be a good friend. virgil needs more support than he does, in roman's opinion. - he gifts logan puzzles with thousands of pieces. they take forever to find but he loves seeing the stoic captain smile. roman's the only one to call him captain, but nowadays he doesn't do it as often. his method of relieving logan's stress involves gossiping and trying to throw dance parties in his office. logan is the only one he trusts to talk about Memories™ with, because somehow, his captain always knows the right thing to say. - him and patton are like two peas in a pod. they're always coming up with crazy ideas and they both care so much about everything and everyone. he doesn't blame patton for virgil being better friends with him than ro, but when he and pat go out and he gets reallyyyy drunk, he tells him how much it hurts sometimes (among other things that roman doesnt remember revealing about himself in the morning) THOMAS: - he was only 12 when his parents got divorced. he mostly lives with his mum. she complains about logan a lot, so over the years he's gotten a negative opinion of him. however, recently he's started seeing his father more because he LOVES the police station. - he especially loves patton, who brings him cookies. virgil strikes him as odd but once they found they shared their love of MCR, thomas actually slips out of logan's office to seek him out. - he's actually very sweet when it comes down to it. with patton, he refuses to swear and with virgil, he swears to tell v off for swearing. a week before christmas he gives patton a bear from build-a-bear and virgil purple earphones, but he does so by leaving them on logan's desk as he and logan leave for the day, because he knows patton lets himself in and would see it and give virgil his present. - he wants to be a doctor when he grows up. he really likes helping people but also, a small part of him wants to be able to take care of his dad should the need arise. - thomas also is Aware of everything relationship-wise in the precinct (aside for anything about roman, who he still hasn't met yet.)
#sanders sides#hc#au#b99 au#moxiety#ish#prince#logan sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#alcohol tw#blood tw#injury tw#guns tw
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