#tw: hospitals
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Spent the whole day at the hospital. Husband underwent a standard, non-urgent procedure, but it was under general anesthesia so it was still a day™.
I had my D&C at the same hospital four months ago, so I remembered all the procedures and knew my way around, which really helped put my husband at ease. I was so proud that I got through the day completely fine despite the memories.
But I know I’ve been building up to this moment. I’ve been feeling so much stronger this past month - I think this means I’ve processed the miscarriage, I’ve worked through my feelings, and I can finally look back on it without breaking down. I’ve come out the other side, and I’m so damn proud of myself for getting there ❤️
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THE GLORY (2023) - PART 2: EPISODE 14
"Dong-Eun! These people are taking me away! Say something, come on!"
#the glory#song hye kyo#Jeong Mi Hee#Park Ji Ah#moon dong eun#kdrama#kdramaedit#kdramadaily#userkit#kdramaladies#nads gifs#the glory netflix#the glory part 2#the glory 2#gif heavy#highlight of the season so far#tw: Hospitals#tw: mental instability#tw: parental abuse
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omg I’m so glad you’re alive and I hope you’re feeling better. Can’t wait to read your Ted lasso writing again<3
Author's Note: ask and you shall receive...
Content warning: injury, hospital, surgery, anxiety, fear, cussing (it's Roy so duh) Crying.
Paring: Roy/Jamie
No Show Roy-o
Jamie paced the locker room. The team just watching him.
Everyone's eyes snap to the door when someone starts to open it but they are disappointed when Ted and Beard walk in. The two coaches look at each other and then the team before heading into the office.
"Okay, something is wrong," Ted says as he sets his backpack down.
"Clearly," Beard replies.
Ted watches the team through the window and notices all the attention on Tartt. Well, then he knew where to start.
"What's wrong, Jamie?" Ted asks as he approaches the striker.
"Roy didn't show for training this morning and he isn't here yet."
"Has he ever missed before?"
"The man actually lives to wake me up at 4 am to order me around," Jamie states. "No, he never misses. Not without a text at least."
"Did you call him?"
"I'm not daft," Jamie huffs. "Several times. No answer. Now it goes to voicemail."
"Some of us tried too," Isaac says. "Nothing."
"Keeley hasn't been able to ring him either," Jamie says. "Should I call his sister?"
"You have his sister's number?"
"For emergencies, and Phoebe," Jamie admits.
"Hold on, you have contact with Roy's niece?" Ted asks. "She's what? 8?"
"That's really the important part to you now?" Jamie asks.
"Kinda, odd friendship there," Ted admits.
"She insists I'm Roy's best friend, and Roy says it's for emergencies. She has a very different definition of emergencies, like you said, she's 8."
"Okay, fine," Ted says. He could let that go for now.
"Do you think this counts as an emergency?" Jamie asks.
"Let's see if he is doesn’t show, not just later than normal," Ted says.
But when time comes to head out to the pitch and Roy still isn't there Jamie cracks and texts Roy's sister. She texts him back that she'll check his place. And that gives Jamie some reassurance as he begins training. He gives Ted his phone in case she or Roy calls. Ted initially thought it was silly, but about an hour in she does call. She tells Ted that Roy wasn't there and the fact he isn't answering for her is unusual. Roy would never ignore a call from her or Phoebe. But she also insists that Roy can handle himself. And she'll let them know if she hears anything. And that makes Ted a bit nervous. They were just about to take a break when Phoebe called Jamie. She is crying and Ted actually does call Jamie over for this one. And Jamie, still in his kit, drags Ted inside. Changes only his boots while still on the phone and whispers to Ted to get what he needs.
"Where are we going?" Ted asks but does as Jamie says because something feels very wrong here.
"The fucking hospital," Jamie hisses, not to be mean but more so Phoebe doesn't hear.
"Oh, that's bad, yeah, let's go." Ted nods and follows Jamie’s lead.
"We're on the way Phoebe, just stay there."
Phoebe runs over and hugs Jamie when she sees him.
"Hey, Phoe," Jamie says and despite the fact she is 8 years old, Jamie hauls her up into his arms for a hug. And Ted is almost envious of how easy that seemed for him. But Ted is still very confused. "You remember Coach Ted?" Jamie asks her. She nods as Jamie sets her down.
"Hi Phoebe," Ted says. "Are you okay?" Ted asks.
She shrugs and looks over. Ted sees a doctor he had met before, but she looked out of place in street clothes.
"Hey, Doc." Jamie hugs her. "What happened?"
"Still trying to sort that out," she says.
"You're Roy's sister?" Ted finally asks.
"Oh sorry, yeah, Coach Lasso, Doc. Doc, Coach Lasso."
"Thanks Jamie," Ted says at the less than helpful introduction but Jamie is already being pulled away to the waiting area by Phoebe.
"How much did Jamie tell you?"
"Absolutely nothing," Ted admits.
She shakes her head. "Right, Roy was brought in about a half hour ago. A friend of mine on shift recognized him and called me. They think he was hit by a car but we have no idea."
"Oh wow, I am so sorry, that-" Ted starts to say but she stops him.
"Thank you, he's in surgery now, I assume you will want to let Ms. Welton know. He might be out for a while."
"Yeah, right, good calls must run in the family," he says.
"Something like that," she says before going to check on Phoebe.
She leans in and whispers to Jamie that Roy is in surgery and it's a waiting game now.
Ted calls Rebecca and Beard, then Keeley. Keeley is there in less than twenty minutes.
"Keeley?" Jamie asks when he sees her. She hugs Phoebe and then him.
"Ted called," she says and smacks his arm.
"What was that for?"
"You didn't call me!"
"I was busy with her," Jamie says, gesturing to Phoebe. Thankfully she had her headphones on and was curled up in a chair.
"Fine, that is an acceptable excuse. Here," she hands him a bag. "I ran by Nelson Road and got your stuff. Sam had made sure it was packed up. They're all pretty worried."
"They aren't the only ones," Jamie glances at Phoebe.
"Does Ted know?"
She glances out the window to where Ted was clearly on the phone with Rebecca or Higgins.
"Know what?"
"About you and Roy?" She says.
"Nah, didn't know if I should tell him. We haven't talked about it."
"Well, I think this might genuinely blow your cover."
"Hasn't yet," Jamie says.
"Jamie, I know you. You're managing right now because of Phoebe, but the minute you see him, you-"
"I know," Jamie seems to deflate. "I am trying so hard but-"
"Oh babe," she hugs him and grimaces. "I love you, Jamie but do us all a favor and change. I'll stay with her."
"Yeah, right, okay," Jamie says as he heads to the toilets to change.
"Where's Jamie?" Ted asks when he gets back.
"Changing out of his kit, Ted there is something I need to tell you, the boys might get mad, but Jamie is going to need someone and as much as he tries to hide it he is terrified."
"Okay, lay it on me," Ted says.
"Roy and Jamie have been secretly dating since just after international break."
"Wow," Ted says. "That's…new information." He admits. "Does explain why he has Roy's sister in his phone. And why he was so worried when Roy didn't show up for training."
"They were keeping it a secret because well, for a lot of reasons, but I believe that ship might have sailed based on the fact Jamie didn't even change out of his kit."
"Did change his boots," Ted says.
"Probably not easy to drive in," she says.
"Probably," Ted agrees.
"Please don't make a big deal out of it, Jamie wasn't going to say anything because he wasn't sure if Roy would want him to, but Jamie brought you for a reason. He brought you because he trusts you and Roy trusts you. And I know you won't hold this against them."
"Heck no, I'm glad they have each other, just surprised is all. You think Jamie is just a ticking time bomb in this one?"
"Definitely," Keeley nods. "And I'm not sure what will set him off."
"Thanks for the heads up, I'll keep this between us unless something happens."
"Thank you, Ted."
Keeley heads back to work after they promise to keep her in the loop. Roy's sister comes back a bit later to tell them that Roy was out of surgery but it would be a bit before anyone could see him.
"You should be at training," is the first thing out of Roy Kent's mouth when they walk in. He glares at Jamie.
"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe rushes over and hugs him as best as she can.
"Hi, Phoebe," he says before looking at Jamie.
"You really think I would stay at training after they called me?" Jamie challenges.
"Yes, not much you can do here," Roy says.
"How hard did that car hit you?” Jamie narrows his gaze at him. “Because clearly your brain is rattled, old man."
"How you feeling, Roy?" Ted asks to get the two to quit being so grumpy.
"Like I got hit by a car," Roy states.
"You did," Phoebe sniffles.
"I'm okay, kid," he says. Earning a scoff from Jamie. Roy glares at him. "You should-"
"Oh, Jamie Tartt's not going anywhere," Ted assures him. "Rebecca already knows you'll be out for a while, and sorry boys, but the cats out of the bag on this one."
"You told him," Roy glares at Jamie again.
"I did not," Jamie looks just as shocked.
"Keeley told me," Ted says. "Because she was worried Jamie was handling it too well."
"Of course she was," Jamie complains.
"You did cry, like a lot earlier," Phoebe says.
"Thanks for that, Phoe," Jamie says, his tone less than amused at being called out by a literal child.
"Phoebe, why don't you help me find your mom and call Keeley," Ted says.
She seems to weigh her options.
"And stop by the vending machines," Ted adds.
"Okay," she hugs her uncle again before following Ted out. Roy looks over at Jamie and can tell he really is hanging in by a thread.
"I'm fine," Roy says. And Jamie doesn't even say anything, just crawls in the bed beside Roy. Roy grunts but manages to shift a bit to make them both fit. "Better?" Roy asks once Jamie is practically molded into his side.
"Yes, much," Jamie says and he buried his face in Roy's shoulder.
"Why am I not surprised?" Roy's sister says when she walks in.
"Not my idea," Roy says.
"Not complainin' though, yeah?" Jamie counters.
"Tear his stitches and I'm banning you myself, Tartt," she says.
"Ouch, Doc," Jamie says. "But fair."
She hums as she sets to checking his vitals.
“Pain?” She asks.
He grunts.
“Roy,” she starts but Jamie beats her to it.
“It's either now or you have to admit it when Phoebe gets back,” Jamie says. And whether it is because he's right or that Jamie's so close to losing it Roy knows he needs to answer.
“Fine, 6.”
“Right,” his sister says.
She makes a few notes.
It was quiet again when she left.
“Are you mad?” Jamie asks.
“That I got hit by a fucking car?” Roy counters. That seemed like an obvious question. Of fucking course he was. He could have died. His mind circles back as Jamie shifts.
“That people know,” Jamie corrects. “About us.”
Roy considers it as best he can with painkillers in his system. And he really doesn't fucking care because Jamie is there with him and despite how he was acting before he was glad he was there. It had been terrifying to think he might die when he has people that need him.
“No,” Roy finally answered. “Needed you here, and if that's the fucking cost. Fine.”
“Good, because I think the team knew something was up, but that might have been because I couldn't sit still.”
“When have you ever fucking sat still?” Roy posits.
“This was worse,” Jamie tells him. “I'm sure Will is going to be pissed at the state of my boots. Pacing constantly on a hard surface.”
“Well get you new fucking boots,” Roy assures.
“Least of my worries, love,” Jamie admits, carefully shifting so he can see Roy's face. “Scared the shit out of me when I couldn't- you weren't answering. No one could find you. You never-”
“Fuck,” Roy says because Jamie has tears streaming down his face and he hates when that happens. He hates that it's because of him, even if he had no say in what happened to him. Despite the ache it causes Roy reaches up and brushes as many of those tears away as he can without risking his stitches. “I'm-”
“Don't!” Jamie starts to pull away. The striker knew what he was about to say. Jamie vehemently shakes his head, causing Roy's hand to have to fall back to the bed. “You are not fucking fine, Roy,” Jamie states, and it was clear what little hold Jamie had on his feelings was slipping. “Because I’m not! Phoebe isn’t either. You nearly died! I can't…do you think I want to do any of this shit without you? Because I fucking don't.”
“Not fucking asking you to,” Roy says, and it probably comes out more aggressive than he intended because Jamie was no longer tucked against his side. The footballer was on his feet, having wound himself up to pacing again. And Roy's chest always gets tight when Jamie does that shit. He needs Jamie to be okay. But he knows he probably said that wrong when Jamie glares at him.
“You didn't fucking have to,” Jamie retorts. And that's fair.
“Fucking hell,” Roy grumbles, attempting to sit up so he can better track Jamie's movement.
“Don’t do that,” Jamie grumbles as he moves back to help him. “Hurt yourself and your sister will boot me.”
“Then quit fucking pacing,” Roy tugs at Jamie's arm until he sits on the edge of the bed. Roy sighs, ignoring the ache in his ribs as he does.
“I'm not fucking dying, Tartt. Fucking doctors made sure of it.”
“Barely,” Jamie says.
“But they fucking did, and that's fucking that.”
Jamie scoffs but doesn't bother arguing. He was anxious and still thinking about how much worse things could have been, and how much could still go wrong.
“Look at me, Tartt,” Roy demands. Jamie does. “I know this is a fucking mess, but I will be fucking fine. You know why?” Jamie shrugs. “Because you lot won't stop until I am. You, my sister and Ted fucking Lasso, are all fucking determined. Throw in Keeley and that fucking team. I probably won't get a fucking quiet moment til I'm back at the dog track. So fucking do it.”
“Are you telling me to take care of you?” Jamie asks.
“Going to fucking do it anyway, yeah?”
“Of course,” Jamie nods. “What do you need me to do?”
“You're here, so things are already fucking better,” Roy states. That has warmth spreading through Jamie's chest because Roy has less filter than most, but it would appear he has even less now. And it's oddly sweet.
“Yeah, I'm here,” Jamie says as he shifts to prop his knee up on the bed and takes Roy's hand in his. The fact Roy seems to relax even more has Jamie smiling for what feels like the first time all day. “And you heard the gaffer, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me.”
“Good, going to need help with the kid,” Roy says. “She is going to be impossible to get rid of.”
“Don't lie Kent, you love every second of it. You love that kid.”
“Not the only fucking one,” Roy states.
“That loves Phoebe? Of course not, she's adorable and-”
Roy squeezes his hand.
“That I love, you fucking muppet. Sometimes I wonder why but fucking hell, Tartt. I fucking love you.”
Jamie grins. “Fucking love you too, you prick.”
Roy tugs him until Jamie lays back down beside him. There is a knock at the door. Jamie goes to get up but Roy doesn't let him.
“Well aren't you two adorable,” Ted says as he and Phoebe come in.
“Fuck off, Lasso,” Roy grunts.
“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe starts.
“I know, kid,” Roy says.
“Your mum probably knows where his wallet is more than he does,” Jamie says.
“Could probably finally cash out that tab I've heard about,” Ted adds.
“Oi, don't give her fucking ideas.”
“That's two,” Ted states.
“Fucking hell,” Roy mutters, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillows.
“Three,” Phoebe giggles.
“I got you,” Jamie quietly tells Roy. Jamie grabs his wallet from his locker and tosses it to Phoebe. Phoebe gives him a look. “He's been through it, so I'll take the hit for him.” Jamie grins. Phoebe just shrugs and takes three quid from him.
“Now he owes you,” Phoebe says, setting his wallet on the table by his phone, which he had set aside to focus on Roy when he initially crawled into the bed.
Roy glares at him, but it doesn't bother the striker.
#tw: injury#tw: hospitalization#tw: hospitals#tw: hit by car#tw: crying#tw: cursing#tw: cussing#tw: fear#tw: anxiety#tw: medical procedures#tw: medical emergencies#tw: medical treatment#tw: medication#tw: mentions of death#ted lasso fic#royjamie#jamie x roy#roy x jamie#jamieroy
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@healiotrope gets a visit from Callie after the hunt...
Her mom and dad were afraid to let her out of their sight after that whole fucked up scene in the forest. Callie knew part of it was because of the fact that someone just died (and it could have been so much worse), but a part of her knew that there was still a lingering thread of distrust for her actions. The cop, the gun, everything about Adam Martin...
But if this whole mess had taught the girl anything, it was that when her mother tried to keep secrets, people would end up dead. That's why she needed some answers. She had to know what was going on in that cult woman's head -- and if they really would have killed Shauna if given the chance.
Callie had no loyalty to the Yellowjackets. In fact, they'd done nothing but cast a massive fucking shadow over her life since day one. But now she felt like she was a part of something, as much as mother dearest had tried to keep her out of it. And that something compelled her to find the hospital where they'd taken the woman she shot, the one with dark hair and doe eyes that shined through her fucked up feathered mask -- Lottie. It was Lottie, right? That's what her dad said. Her mom didn't talk about that woman much at all (and maybe for good reason).
So when she got to the hospital, Callie did her best to convince the resident nurse she was family (who else would call her Lottie, not Charlotte?), hoping the woman in question wouldn't turn her away when she recognized the girl without the gun. Yeah, so she forgot to bring flowers -- she came as soon as she heard. It was believable enough, because she was let through eventually. She stood in the doorway of Lottie's room, terrified of having gotten this far. Callie had no plan, she wasn't even sure what she would get out of this, but she had to try... right?
"Lottie." It was a statement, not a question, as she stepped forward over the threshold and over her fears. "I... I want to talk to you."
#healiotrope#healiotrope 04#sadeckoes#threads: callie#v: fate up against your will#//that's my post s2 verse tag for now!#tw: hospitals#tw: gun mention
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Personal Life Heads Up:
My mom’s been in the hospital for the past two days and, depending on the results so, may be in longer.
I’m not in the best headspace right now. But I do plan on keeping up with my fanfictions.
If something comes up, I’ll make another post.
Just…not doing the best at the moment.
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Hi I was wondering if you where still taking prompts if so I had an idea for a Eddie and Buck one where it’s after the lawsuit and Bucky is back working but everyone is avoiding him and when they get a call they leave him behind to clean. All the stress gets to him and one day while everyone is out on a call Bucky had another embolism. He calls 9-1-1 and another house saves him and the 118 comes back to blood on the floor and two fire fighters waiting to tell them what happened.
This one is long overdue. It has been started in my drafts for a long time. And I finally got to finish it. Hope you guys enjoy it.
-Scarlet 📕
Content warnings: Blood, coughing, struggling to breathe, panic, fear, passing out, intubation, pulmonary embolism, ambulances, hospitals, pain, guilt, anger.
Away Team
Buck looked around the empty station and felt the pain in his chest get worse. The call had the full crew out. As the pain persisted Buck realized it wasn't the usual ache that came with working these days. No, this was a different but familiar pain. It hurt, and he felt a cough in his throat, even deep in his chest. He reached up to where his radio should be and remembered he didn't have his radio on him. Why would he? It was just another way for them to yell at him. So he grabbed his phone, and as stupid as it made him feel, he dialed 911. Coughing as he did. He did his best to explain between choking coughs and gasping breaths. He somehow managed to get his location out as he dropped to his knees in the vacant truck bay. He looked down and frowned. He'd just cleaned that floor, and now it had blood on it. Bobby was going to be so pissed. Buck could hear the dispatcher's voice through his speaker, but he was no longer able to understand her. He blacked out.
His consciousness returned with a sudden jolt. The coughing made his chest burn, and something was in his throat. It all hurt. A firm hand stopped him from pulling at the tube in his throat.
"Easy, Buckley," an unfamiliar voice told him. "You're having a hard enough time already. No need to make it worse." How did they know his name? Where was he? Buck looked around and realized he was in an ambulance. He looked up to see a paramedic he didn't really know. The confusion must have been clear on his face because the paramedic sighed but smiled.
"You called 911, do you remember?" He thought about it, and he remembered what had happened. He nodded as much as he could.
"Okay, that's good," the paramedic smiled. "I'm Mel. I work with the 122."
Buck nodded again in acknowledgment.
"I have to ask, Buckley," Mel said. "Dispatch said you told her it was an embolism. You have one before?"
Buck nodded.
"You on blood thinners?"
He nodded again.
"You take your meds today?"
Buck tried to remember if he did. He half shrugged, an action that didn't help his sore and exhausted body.
"Okay," Mel nodded as she began to check his vitals again. "That is honestly more than I figured I'd get with the tube in. Just relax now, Buckley. We'll be at the hospital soon."
"You seeing this, Bobby?" Chim asked as they neared the station and saw a fire engine that didn't belong to their house in front of the bay's open doors.
"Yeah," Bobby said as he eyes the truck as they got closer.
"What the hell is the 122 doing here?" Eddie asked as they pulled in beside the engine.
"Let's find out," Bobby said as he got out and approached the pair of firefighters that were blocking them from pulling into the station.
"Captain Nash?" One of the men asked.
"That's me," Bobby looked between the men.
"Is that blood?" Eddie asked as he joined them. He looked around the empty bay. "Wait, where's-"
"Buckley will hopefully be at Good Samaritan by now," the second firefighter said.
"What happened?" Bobby asked, his heart rate picking up as he took it all in. There were discarded gloves and blood on the floor.
"We were going to ask you the same thing," the first said.
"Who are you?" Chim asked.
"Morris and Jameson from the 122." The one named Jameson said.
"What happened to Buck?" Bobby asked.
"He called 911," Morris said bluntly. "Never had a call to another station before. Our captain said it never really happens.
"Why? Is he alright?" Eddie asked.
"He was coughing up blood," Jameson answered, gesturing to the spots on the floor. “Heard something about an embolism.”
"That can't be right," Eddie said. "He is on blood thinners."
Morris eyed Eddie skeptically. "Diaz, is it? That's why we're here to talk to Captain Nash. Our captain has a few concerns."
"Where is your captain?" Chim asked.
"He decided it best to go with Buckley," Jameson told him. “Said the guy sued the department once already and that he wanted to make sure he didn't have any reason to do it again. Best care and all that."
"He dropped the suit," Hen said.
Jameson shrugged. "They said that, but we're still confused on how an embolism risk is not only on duty but alone. That seems a bit-"
"He isn't working calls. That is why he was here," Bobby said. "A sort of light duty."
"So you're a man down on calls?"
"For now," Bobby said.
"Riiight," Morris said. "Might be for a lot longer now."
"So he had another embolism?" Bobby tried to get the conversation back to how Buck is now.
"It was what dispatch said he managed to say," Jameson answered. "She wasn't sure because sounded like the guy was coughing up a lung, and from how we found him, I believe it. The guy was collapsed on the ground struggling to breathe and coughing up blood. So seemed right to the medics. They got a tube in, we loaded him up and got him out of here."
"Oh, Buckaroo," Hen said as she shook her head. She reached over and gave Eddie's shoulder a squeeze. He'd gone quiet and a bit pale as they listened to them talk.
"But honestly, we're a bit confused because Deluca used to talk about how close you guys are, but your own guy had to call for us? How does that even happen?"
"It is a long story," Bobby sighed.
"We got until the boss calls us out, and I'm sure the chief will want to hear." With that, Bobby took the two firefighters to his office.
"You okay?" Hen asked Eddie.
"He is on the blood thinners. How could this happen?" Eddie asked, his eyes glued to the blood splatters on the ground.
"Well, meds can fail," Hen said.
"But they usually don't-"
"He couldn't remember if he took them," they all looked up to see another member of the 122 come through the doors.
"What?" Eddie asked.
"Or at least that was what I could figure out with just yes and no questions in the rig," she said. "He might be on them, but he had to have missed more than just one dose for this to happen." She gestured to the mess on the ground.
"He was awake? Is he okay?" Eddie asked.
"He was conscious and as okay as someone can be with a tube shoved down his throat, though I guess his sister said he'd had a trach before, so I guess he has had worse."
"Maddie is there?" Chim said as he pulled out his phone.
"If that is his sister, then she was on her way last I heard from my captain."
"But is he-"
"As fun as this game of 20 questions is, where are Morris and Jameson?"
"In talking to our captain," Hen said.
"Can you take me to them?" The medic asked.
"Sure, he'll be glad to hear Buck was awake." Hen said as she leads her toward Bobby's office.
Chim pulled his phone from his ear. "Maddie's not answering."
Eddie rubbed at his face and looked down at the blood again. "Why wouldn't he call us?"
"You're seriously asking that?" Chim said, causing Eddie to look up at him.
"What the hell does that mean?" Eddie said.
"I mean, if you haven't noticed, this whole situation is a disaster. I thought that scene at the store was bad, but been more than a bit frosty around here since he came back."
"Don't you put this all on me. That’s-" Eddie said, a sharp edge to his tone.
"I'm not. I just-" Chimney started.
"This is on all of us," Bobby said as he approached them. "But mostly me. I should have been keeping a closer eye on him." They all watched as the 122 went back to their vehicles and left.
"Can we go see him?" Eddie asked.
"After we get this place cleaned up."
Buck woke up to the sound of harsh whispers.
"No, this is all your fault. You had one job, to keep your team safe, including my brother. You don't get to pick and choose who on your team you care about. You are their captain, his captain-"
"Mads," Buck managed to call out. His voice sounded off to his own ears, and his throat felt like someone sandpapered it. But at least the tube was out.
"Hey, take it easy. Your vocal cords took a bit of a beating," Maddie said as she rushed back to his side and held up a styrofoam cup with a straw. He took a drink, and it helped soothe his throat a bit, but not much. He looked up at the door and saw Bobby standing in it. Buck forced himself not to flinch but must have failed when he felt his sister squeeze his hand.
"This is what I didn't want to happen," Maddie glared at Bobby. "You-"
"I know this is my fault," Bobby said. "I know I failed Buck. I figured he'd be fine at the station, that he-"
"He is sitting right here," Buck grumbled.
"I know, and I am so sorry Buck," Bobby said. "This should never have happened I-"
"If the 122 hadn't read you the riot act, would you even be here?" Maddie asked.
"Of course, he is still a part of the team, still one of us." Bobby nodded.
"Got a funny way of showing it," Maddie huffed.
"Maddie," Buck cautioned.
"No, Evan," Maddie held his hand between hers. "They treated you terribly. You dropped the suit and did everything they asked, and they still let this happen."
"They didn't make me miss my meds," Buck admitted.
"About that, Buck, when did you stop taking them?" Bobby asked.
"I didn't intentionally do it. I just ran out and couldn't get to the pharmacy because I had to work."
"You should have told me. I would have-" Bobby started to say.
"Don't," Maddie cut him off. "Do not make him feel bad about this. You assigned his shifts. You assigned him every chore in the book. He could have died, and you guys would have come back and found him dead in the station. The one you are supposed to be in command of."
"I know, and that is something I have to live with,” the captain admitted, “Knowing how close we were to losing Buck, and it was absolutely preventable. If we had just paid more attention."
"Damn right you should have," Maddie said, glaring at him.
"I know, and you can't possibly know how sorry I am." Bobby turned to look at Buck and took a few steps closer. "If you want to transfer out, I would understand, we all would, and I know nothing can change what we did, but I promise if you come back things will be better."
"Why would I transfer? What house would want the guy that sued his boss and the department?" Buck said, his face reflecting his depressive state.
"Well, the 122 was quick to call us out. One of the old 118 crew had told them about us, and what they saw didn't mesh with that idea, and they had a lot of questions. You made quite an impression on them. I'm sure you could-"
"You promise if I come back that everyone won't hate me, and I will get to do more than grunt work, right?" Buck asked.
"I assure you most of the team has already changed their tune," Bobby said.
"I don't know,” Buck said, his doubts clear in his tone. “Eddie was so pissed before-"
"I'm sure if Eddie was still angry he wouldn't be out in the waiting room,” Bobby informed him, “the others too."
"Unless he came to yell at him some more," Maddie grumbled.
"If his reaction when we got back to the station was anything to go by,” Bobby said to try and assure them, “I doubt he'll do much yelling, but only Eddie can really answer that."
"So you are really sure they don't hate me?" Buck asked.
"We don't hate you, Buckaroo," Hen replied. They all looked up to see Hen, Chim, and Eddie at the door.
"Right," Buck said, not really believing her.
"Buck," Hen started but was stopped by Eddie.
"You might not believe us now, and that's on us," Eddie said as he moved closer to Buck's bed. "And if we have to earn that back, we will.”
Buck looked up at his sister. “Is this really happening? I’m not dead, right?”
“They’re lucky you aren’t dead, or your lawsuit would look trivial compared to the hell I would have raised,” Maddie admitted without hesitation. “And as tempting as doing it anyway seems and as much as I’d love to see these 3 sweat it, I won’t do that to you.” She squeezed her brother’s hand. “You’ve been through enough.”
“I just want to go back to normal,” Buck said.
“Evan…” Maddie started.
“We can’t go back, can’t change what is done,” Bobby admitted. “Believe me. I wish I could. But we can do better going forward.”
“And we will,” Eddie stated.
“All of us,” Hen added.
“Yeah, what they said,” Chim nodded.
Maddie shook her head but asked, “And you’ll make sure he gets back on his feet and stays that way?”
“Of course,” Bobby agreed.
“You swear you’ll actually have his back this time?” Maddie looked at Eddie.
“On my life,” Eddie answered.
“I will hold you to that, Diaz,” Maddie told him.
“Maddie, please, I just-” Buck started.
“I’m not going to be sorry about holding them accountable, Evan. You wouldn’t be here if they did their jobs. I’m not going to stand here and listen to them make empty promises. They don’t get to try and save their own asses just because another crew called them out.”
“We won't make the same mistake again,” Bobby assured her.
“I’ll make sure they don’t.” They turned to see Athena standing in the doorway.
"Good," Maddie says. She did still trust Athena.
"I just want to go back to work," Buck says.
"And you will after you're cleared for duty," Bobby says.
"But they will not be standing in your way this time," Athena says. “Their superiors have assured me.”
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that even I got a call from the fire chief and the captain of the 122. And they will be keeping an eye on things. And so will I."
Buck groans and drops back against the pillows.
"Evan," Maddie says. "It means they are taking this as seriously as it should be. This sort of thing should never have happened." She glares at her brother's team. "The chief probably just wants to make sure it doesn't happen again."
"And it won't,” Bobby insists. “We'll take whatever punishments the department sees fit. If that's having to put up with inspections and even an investigation, that's fine. We'll do it."
"Technically, I don't think we broke any written rules," Chim points out. Earning a glare from Maddie. "But it was still wrong," he adds. "Hen and I should have stepped in when you came back."
"We should have been checking in with you on how you were feeling and how the meds were going," Hen adds. "We're the medics on the team. Everyone's well-being is supposed to be even more important to us. And we botched that."
"We never wanted this to happen," Chim says. "No one wants you to suffer."
Buck huffs, but it turns into a cough.
Eddie is at his side before he can even get a breath in.
"Slow breaths, as deep as you can without it hurting," Eddie tells him. He goes to put a hand on Buck's back, but the younger man flinches. And Eddie pulls away like he was burned. Maddie rubs her brother's back instead.
"Thank you for the update, but Evan needs his rest," Maddie says sternly. Shutting down any further conversation. "Athena, you are welcome to stay, but I must ask the rest of you to leave."
"Understandable," Bobby acquiesces. "Let us know when you're feeling better, Buck. Then we can discuss your schedule." Buck nods. Bobby turns to the team. "Let's go." He can tell Eddie wants to fight him in this. "We can discuss this later."
Once back at the station, Eddie stares at the now clean spot that was the only hint that Buck had ever been in trouble.
"Eddie," Bobby starts. "You need to give him time. Maybe we both need to start by telling him why we've been so hard on him. I know you hate seeing him hurting as much as we all do, but Maddie is right. We owe him an explanation. We owe it to him to fix this. To be better. I'm going to go call the chief. We may be in for a tough few weeks, but it's…well, it's deserved. We made this mess. I made this mess. Now it's time to face the consequences." He gave Eddie a pat on the shoulder before heading to his office.
Bobby was right. They needed to fix it. And Eddie had a good idea of where to start. If Buck was still in the hospital in the morning, Eddie was going to bring Christopher to see him. If he was back home, then he and Christopher would bring him breakfast. Either way, starting tomorrow morning, Buck would have Christopher back. It may take Buck longer to let Eddie back in, but this would be a start. A peace offering. Yeah, that was a good plan. But first, he needed to call Carla and endure whatever lecture he was about to get. She has been Buck's friend longer than Eddie was. She would not be happy about what happened, but he was sure she would help him. She would help for Christopher's and Buck’s sake. She cares for them both. Eddie might have to work to get back in her good graces now too, but maybe a few added paid days off might help. Maybe. Either way, he had a plan.
#rebel9917#by scarlet#answered by scarlet#tw: blood#tw: coughing#tw: struggling to breathe#tw: struggling for air#tw: panic#tw: pain#tw: fear#tw: passing out#tw: intubation#tw: pulmonary embolism#tw: ambulances#tw: hospitals#tw: guilt#tw: anger#prompt fill#911 fic#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#bobby nash#fire fam#maddie buckley#hen wilson#chimney han#eddie diaz
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need you
pairing: bradley bradshaw x jake seresin (hangster).
rating: mature
angst. pure angst. hurt/no comfort. tw: for mentions of hospitals, canon-typical violence (ejection, injury), and implied parental abuse. references to the death of bradley's parents.
link to ao3.
-
"i missed you."
rooster - bradley - stops. his whole body freezes, and jake sees the way his shoulders inch up, the way every muscle tenses.
"hangman..."
"don't - don't call me that. i mean it." he hadn't meant for it to come out of his mouth just like that, so desperate, so longing, so easy, but things change when you think you almost die. when you're shot into the air, when your jet becomes a trail of fire and smoke as it hurtles toward the ground, and you barely make it out with your life. he still sounds like he's swallowed glass, but jake's determined to make himself clear now, if only because he started and now he doesn't think he can stop. "i missed you, bradshaw, i always have, ever since - ever since it was you and me and then it stopped being that. i missed you. i need you."
"funny way of showing it." bradley's voice is low, and he doesn't turn around. "throwing yourself into the line of fire."
"i did it for you," jake shoots back, ignores how every word seems to crack. "i saved your fucking life. i couldn't lose you, bradley, so i saved you."
bradley whips around then, and a sick thrill goes through jake at the sight of him, eyes alight with fury, hands curled into fists at his sides. he's beautiful when he's angry, almost glowing with his fury. always know how to push his buttons, don't you, seresin? he thinks, feels his breath catch as the other man gets so close he can fucking taste the aftershave.
"you did it for you," bradley snaps. they're nose to nose, chest to chest. jake tries not to think how bare he is, how the hospital gown leaves him with a perpetual chill, how it's still stained with blood from the scrapes down his side. "like you always do. every single thing you do, selfish."
jake's laugh is short. bitter. "selfish, huh? you call making sure you make it home selfish."
"yes." bradley stares him down, the word biting. "and if you, for once in your life, thought about others before yourself you'd get that."
"right. right. okay, then. fine," jake snaps. he feels anger, too, but he knows how it makes him look. like a devil, furious and red-faced. like his father. so he keeps it pushed away, smooths out his voice and his tone. "explain it to me like i'm five, since apparently i don't do much thinking."
bradley's breath comes in short huffs, and he pushes the breaths through his nose as he grits his teeth. but after a moment, he finally speaks, eyes never leaving jake's.
"because if you actually thought about others," he says, and his voice shakes with that righteous fury, quiet yet seething, "if you actually cared about me, you'd know the last thing i would ever want, ever need, ever dream of, is you dying for me. what the hell do i do with that, jake? how the fuck am i supposed to go on, with you dead and buried and gone? you think you're the only one who missed the other? you don't think i loved -"
it's then jake realizes the gaze he hasn't been able to escape is a teary one. bradley's crying. bradley is reaching for jake, just like he reached for the door to leave, and just like the door he doesn't let himself touch, just lets his hand hover over the spot where jake bled to keep bradley flying. jake can feel the heat radiating from that point, the infection that's finally settled still warring with his skin. he knows bradley feels it, too, as he almost, almost touches.
"you don't think that's the stuff of my nightmares? seeing you die before me? like my dad? like my mom?"
jake's mouth falls open, the words a sock to the jaw. "bradley -"
but at the sound of his name, the spell he's under shatters. he blinks, then, as his hand pulls back from jake's side. "don't. just. don't." he steps back again, shakes his head. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i don't know why i came. i - i thought maybe... i don't know. but i can't do this right now."
and maybe now jake gets it. maybe now he understands. that bradley sees jake's jet burn up and sees a dad he barely knew, sees jake in a hospital gown and sees his mother gone too soon. but the realization comes as bradley starts to walk away, and now jake's blinking back tears.
"wait - wait, bradley, rooster, i'm sorry."
but the door closes behind him, and jake is alone.
painfully, deservedly alone.
#hangster#bradley bradshaw x jake seresin#sereshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster#jake seresin#hangman#angst#my fic#my writing#people don't talk like this in real life ignore it#tw: hospitals#tw: injury#tw: implied abuse#hurt/no comfort
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Closed starter @ the Ruíz-Peterson household with @norasinclair
Hearing a knock at the door, Sarah forced herself to climb off of the sofa and head towards the source of the noise. She knew exactly who it was; she was the one who invited her best friend over. She had kept Nora in the dark long enough about what was going on, wanting to give the other woman a moment to savour her time with little Nessie, but with surgeries and different hospital dates looming, she knew it was time to bite the bullet.
Swinging the door open, she tried her best to flash Nora a smile. She wasn’t sure if she’d initially be able to tell if anything was off, considering the fact that Sarah rarely smiled anyway. “How do you keep getting more and more beautiful every time I see you?” She chuckled, opening the door wider as an invitation for her friend to step inside. “It feels like it’s been months since our last spooning session. How have you been?”
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( k gonna be a bit longer to respond. Heart rate shot up to 140 and stayed there for over 3 hours with consistent fluttering. I am in the hospital and they're doing their thing. Will update when I get home. Thanks for the patience. )
#ooc#tw: hospitals#im just chillin while i wait on some test results so feel free to message here or on discord
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just got stabbed
at the hospital
by a nurse
i got a vaccine
i bled a bit which was fun and then almost threw up but feeling fine now gonna try to finish a fanfiction
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who: @astridhansleyy
where: aurora bay hospital, room 208
Huddled over in his the hospital bed, it was the first time Will could sit up properly although he was still on a decline. He looked like shit and he felt like it too, but at least he could keep food down now. Slowly making his way through a questionable looking meal that someone without tastebuds might call lunch, a knock at his door caused him to raise his head. "Hey you," he greeted the blonde with a dazed smile. "You're just in time for lunch. Care for some dubious looking chicken? I've got watered down Jell-o too."
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Hii!! Did you take Pepto yet for your tummy ache?
I did! well, the Uk equiverlent and then promptly threw it all back up :( its been a constant tummyache for like two months now and my nan is like "you should..maybe hospital" and i dont wanna spend more time in hospital yk?
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Update on Jeremy Renner. Guys, he's awake!! He posted this on his Instagram!
Keep sending him good vibes everyone.
Under the cut for triggers: blood, hospitals, injury.
#j snow talks#jeremy renner#tw: injury#tw: blood#tw: hospitals#clint hawkeye barton#clint barton#hawkeye#mcu#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#mayor of kingstown
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Roy/Jaime idea: Roy eats something and has a severe allergic reaction to it and Jaime is the one to run and get an epi-pen to save his life, and looks after Roy once he comes out of hospital. Jaime stays with Roy, and winds up never leaving.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It's been a bad week for me trying to focus. I've only had one allergic reaction to medication as a toddler. I don't remember it. I wasn't there for my nephew's two anaphylaxis events. So I'm just going off what little I do know. Not sure if this is even a real allergy. I have external allergies, like contact allergies and a horrible reaction to bug bites, but that's not the same. I just imagine what that would be like in your throat and oh yikes.
Not beta read
Ao3
Ted Lasso Masterlist
Word Count: 6k+
Paring: Roy x Jamie (Romantic), Roy x Phoebe (familial/platonic, protective), Jamie x Phoebe (platonic, protective) Roy x AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic)
Content warning: Allergic Reactions, anaphylaxis, Hospitals, needles, epipens, medical emergencies, ptsd, trauma reactions
The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you
Roy does not like people knowing about his life. He likes keeping it that way.
In a rare week where they end up having an extra day off after one of their games gets moved for a different game to be televised. The team only has a half day of training, and they meet up in the afternoon. Roy picks up Phoebe from school and joins them later in the day outside an unusual cafe. One of the guys hands them a smoothie, some fruity concoction a few of them insists Phoebe will like. And it's fine until Roy tells Phoebe to get her bag. When Phoebe looks up at him, she shouts. Jamie and Isaac are on their feet as she scrambles to get her bag.
"What was in that?!" Phoebe asks.
"Fruits and veggies," Someone says. And Jamie gets a good look at Roy and curses. She adds, "He needs to lie down." Jamie and Isaac do as she says and get him flat on the ground.
"Phoe," Jamie starts to ask if she has an epipen but she ignores him.
"What kind?" Phoebe shouts. “He has allergies.”
"Call an ambulance," Isaac shouts.
"Colin already did," Jan Maas says. "He is talking to them now."
Phoebe panics as she looks up at Jamie. “I can’t find it.”
“Does he have one?” Jamie tamps down his inner panic and focuses on what needs to be done.
“Glovebox,” Phoebe says.
“Sorry, mate,” Jamie mutters as he awkwardly gets Roy’s keys out of his pocket and sprints to the G Wagon. He makes a bit of a mess, but he finds an epipen. He rushes back and drops down beside Roy. With little work, he preps the pen and slams it into Roy’s thigh. “You can kick my arse if it bruises when you aren’t half dead,” Jamie says as he looks Roy over. He looked awful. His face was swollen, and his color was off. “But you don’t get to fucking die on me, mate. The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you. Those pricks love making drama out of shit.” He isn’t sure if he’s talking to keep Roy focused on him being annoying or to make himself feel better.
“Someone see if anyone has another,” Colin says. “Lady says it might not work.”
“Bruv,” Isaac smacks Colin and gestures to where Phoebe stares at him with wide eyes.
“But I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Colin adds.
“He’s a fighter, Phoe,” Jamie says, trying to get her attention off of Colin. “Now, what’s he allergic to?”
Phoebe looks up at Jamie. "He can't have some leafy veggies like he can't use whistles," she tells him. "That's what mum says, at least."
"I got it, Phoe," Jamie says before focusing back on Roy. "Rough day, coach?" Roy glares at him. "When this is over, I'm going to ask your sister what else you haven't told the team that might actually kill you. So far, it's whistles and kale or some shit because clearly you can't be trusted to tell me." Roy growls, but it comes out half wheezed. Jamie takes Roy's hand and puts his fingers on his wrist. His pulse is fast and all over the place, but it's not terrible. "Just try and breathe, ya prick. Don’t want to traumatize the kid any more than she already is.”
Colin comes over to hand Jamie his phone, but Jamie just hands it to Phoebe. "Tell them what you told me." It's good for her to have a task to keep her focused. And she knows more than most of them do with this. Jamie can tell the swelling must ease some because Roy looks a tiny bit better. Jamie takes off his jacket and puts it under Roy's head. "There nice and comfy now, innit?" Roy glares at him again, but Jamie takes his hand again. His grip shifts to hold it in one hand, and still feel his pulse. His other hand goes into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Jamie unlocks it and hands it to Colin. "Do me a favor and call Phoebe's mum. She's in there as Roy Kent's fit sister."
That earns a grunt from Roy. Jamie smirks. "I know. You'll cut my eyes out." He squeezes Roy's hand. "You can yell at me when you can breathe properly again."
"Fuck you," Roy manages now that the epinephrine is working. Jamie grins and carefully sets Roy’s hand down.
"Good news, lads, he lives," Jamie says, standing up. They cheer. "Still going to the A&E," Jamie insists.
Phoebe gives Colin back his phone and moves to sit beside her uncle. She takes the hand that Jamie doesn't keep using to check his pulse and holds it tight. Jamie leaves for a second and comes back.
"I'm okay, kid," Roy says. She hums but doesn't say anything.
"How ya doing, coach?" Jamie asks.
“You lock my fucking car?” Roy asks.
Jamie chuckles. “Yes, I locked your fucking car. Now answer my question.”
"I'm fine," Roy insists. Jamie huffs another laugh. He uses a bandana to wipe the sweat off Roy's now less pale face. Roy grimaces.
"It's clean. I swear," Jamie says. "Can't have big bad Roy Kent looking sweaty, might make some poor medic swoon."
"You're fucked in the head, Tartt," Roy says.
"You don't know half of it," Jamie grins.
"I'm fucking glad for that," Roy grumbles.
"Oh, trust me, you'd enjoy some of it," Jamie adds with a wink. And Roy glares at him.
"He seems fine to me," Richard laughs from where he and Colin stand behind Jamie.
"Yeah, but unless one of you has another epipen, then we better hope that the ambulance doesn't take forever," Jamie says.
"I told you, I'm fine," Roy attempts to get up, but Jamie and Phoebe stop him.
"Sorry, Coach," Jamie says. "Doc's orders."
When the paramedics get there, Roy cooperates because Phoebe looks like if he doesn't, she might cry from where she holds onto Jamie's hand with both of hers. Jamie is knelt down to her level and clearly trying to comfort her. The medics let Jamie go with them to look after Phoebe.
Phoebe stays with Jamie in the waiting room when they reach the hospital.
"You good, Phoebs?" Jamie asks when she sits down.
"Yeah," She says.
"You sure?" He asks again. "Cause you don't have to be. Sure as hell scared me."
"You didn't seem scared," Phoebe says.
"Got years of practice looking tough on the outside," Jamie says.
"Uncle Roy says it's because your dad is a…well," she pauses.
"Bad word, innit?" Jamie grins.
"It is," she admits.
"Well, my old man is a bad word," Jamie says.
"Mine was too, so we have that in common," she states.
"We do," Jamie says as he throws his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side. "But you're a way better kid than I was. 'Lot smarter than I was. But we don't need bad dads with your Uncle Roy around."
"He's going to be okay, right?" She asks.
"Your mum's here, 'course he'll be okay. Be back to his gloomy and grumpy self in no time. A quid says he's already trying to convince them to let him go because he's fine, and your mum will have to put him in his place."
"You're on because he's not going to argue if mum is working because she is already busy, and she won't put up with nonsense."
"Oh, fair point. Guess we'll see."
Roy might yell at Jamie for gambling with his 8-year-old niece, but Jamie will take that lecture. She isn't as worried or upset as she had been when they got there. So he doesn't regret it. They argue over what the waiting room TV should be changed to, despite neither of them having control over what is on. They both send Keeley texts from Jamie's phone, and they end up looking at magazines and saying who on the team would wear the outfits in the photos and ads.
"Mum!" Phoebe runs over and hugs her mother when she approaches them.
"How is he, doc?" Jamie asks.
"On the mend," she assures him. "Should be able to go home soon. But someone will need to look after him. You up for that?"
"Me?" Jamie asks. He figured Keeley would be the one to do it.
"I think you can handle it," she says with a sly smile. "And I know you'll actually fight him if he tries to do something he shouldn't. He is not the easiest of patients."
"Giving the nurses trouble?" Jamie asks, glancing at Phoebe.
"Ha, no, not in my hospital. He knows better," She says.
"That's fair," Jamie says. He digs a coin out of his pocket and hands it to Phoebe. Phoebe's mum shakes her head. "You guys can head back and see him now." She has a nurse take them to Roy's room.
"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe hurries over to him when they get there.
"Hey, kid," Roy says.
"How do you feel?" She asks.
"Like I don't need to be here anymore. I'm sure there's someone out there that could use this bed more than me."
"You just want to get out of here before the press finds out you're here," Jamie says as he sits in the chair by the bed.
"Probably already on the way if Jamie Tartt was loitering around the waiting area," Roy states.
"Hey, someone had to keep Phoebe from getting bored," Jamie says.
"Fuck off. I'm sure she was the one entertaining you. You can't sit still for five minutes. You can barely sit like a fucking adult."
"Wow, rude, and two quid on your tab, for shame, Uncle Roy," Jamie grins.
"Fucking nightmare," Roy mutters. "Anyone tell you when I could fucking leave?"
"Mum says soon, but you have to go home with Jamie," Phoebe says.
"Fuck no," Roy says.
"Uncle Roy," Phoebe says and gives him a look she probably learned from her mum. Jamie hid his smile behind a drink he had gotten when he had gotten Phoebe food since she didn't actually get to eat at the cafe. He always found it insanely adorable how much sway she had over her uncle. And honestly, it was something Jamie could just sit all day and watch. Because getting to spend a day with his childhood hero and someone he cared for was just something special to Jamie. To see such an honest and genuine version of Roy fucking Kent. Times like these he secretly enjoyed. Although he could have done without the gut-wrenching fear of losing Roy to something as stupid as a fucking smoothie. If Roy didn’t start carrying an epipen on him at all times, Jamie would because they had in a very bad spot if Jamie hadn’t found the one in the glove box.
Jamie listened to Roy and his niece argue.
"What do you think, Jamie?” Phoebe says.
"I'm pretty sure my coach yells at me if I ignore my doctor's orders," Jamie points out, making direct eye contact with Roy. "And that coach is usually you."
Roy groans. "Fucking, fine."
They settle in and watch some cartoons Phoebe picks on Roy's phone while Jamie just scrolls through his. He texts the team to let them know Roy is fine. And after a couple of hours, they get to leave. Jamie insists Phoebe come with them for the night to “help”. He'd left both his and Roy’s keys with the team. Isaac said they’d get Jamie’s car back to Nelson Road, but they’d drop Roy’s at the hospital so they had a ride home. Isaac assured him Colin wasn’t allowed to drive either of them. Jamie loves his teammates, and he lets them know how thankful he is in texts.
Roy is exhausted and feels like shit, but he is happy to be home. Even if Jamie was now in his home. Roy unceremoniously drops down on the sofa. Phoebe is quick to sit beside him, and he smiles when she snuggles into his side. They had a fucking terrifying day, and the look of absolute fear that Phoebe had during the entire incident was burned into his retinas. It would probably haunt his fucking dreams.
“Here,” Jamie says, handing Roy a glass of water and the meds Roy's sister insisted he takes when he gets home. Roy’s neck and throat fucking hurt as he looks up at Jamie.
“Thanks,” Roy says as he takes them. Jamie just nods and goes to sit in an armchair. Roy shakes his head as Jamie tucks one leg up under him. He really couldn’t sit like a normal person, could he? At least the striker had taken his shoes off. But Roy didn’t really mind. Jamie had saved his life and taken care of Phoebe. Jamie could fucking key his car, and Roy would probably let him, today at least. Jamie pulls out his phone and starts typing away at it. After a few minutes, he looks up at the TV and then at the pair on the sofa. Phoebe had turned some kid show on that Roy’s tired brain couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. “You guys hungry?” Jamie asks.
Roy doesn’t exactly feel like eating. But he hadn’t eaten shit at the hospital.
“You eat?” Roy asks Phoebe.
“Some,” Phoebe says. Roy looks at Jamie.
“She wasn’t exactly hungry, but I did feed her,” Jamie says. He gets up and hands Roy his phone. It had a soup and sandwich place they often got delivered to Nelson Road pulled up. “Your sister says you can’t have much, nothing pointy or crispy, but mines is already in. Add whatever.” Jamie heads back towards Roy’s kitchen. Roy could remember a time that having Jamie Tartt doing anything in his house would have annoyed him, but honestly, he was glad Jamie was there. Roy’s too fucking tired to think about much. He decides to heed his sister’s warning and gets a soup he doesn’t hate. He lets Phoebe pick what she wants before ordering it. He’ll find out how much he spent on Phoebe earlier and pay Jamie back later. When Jamie is gone for a few minutes, Roy considers getting up to see what he is doing, but Jamie returns and hands him a mug of tea.
“Figured you probably don’t keep whatever you’re allergic to in the house, so it was safe to make this. Might help your throat,” Jamie says. “Or make it worse, I’m no expert.” He hands a mug to Phoebe, who thanks him. Roy looks down and can tell that Jamie made her one of the fruity herbal teas that he keeps mostly for Phoebe, and that makes Roy pause. Because Jamie clearly has thought about a lot of details, Roy didn’t expect him to. He hadn’t asked for tea, but Jamie’s right. It might help. He knows Phoebe shouldn’t have caffeine this late in the day, especially after all the chaos of the afternoon. Her bedtime was only an hour away. Jamie had obviously considered that. And Roy has never been so glad to have Jamie around. Ever. Roy takes a drink and relaxes because whatever Jamie adds to it does actually help. He could fucking hug the man if he wasn’t so fucking knackered. And that was fucking weird. He fucking wanted to hug Jamie Tartt. Because he can remember the feeling of Jamie’s hand in his. It had been an awkward hold because Jamie had his fingers on his pulse point, but it had been more comforting than it should have been to him.
Jamie doesn't let him do shit. Doesn't even let him answer the door when the food is delivered. Jamie has Phoebe make sure of it, and it suddenly makes sense why he insists she joins them. Jamie knew Roy wouldn't make too big a fuss if she was there. She had been through enough for one day.
And Roy knows how that feels because Jamie may not have looked panicked while Roy was struggling to breathe. Roy could tell. Jamie’s eyes had been wide and filled with concern. The way Jamie’s hands had gripped him tight. It screamed, 'Don't leave me.'
After Phoebe goes to sleep, Jamie sits on the other end of the sofa and sighs.
“You good?” Roy asks.
Jamie pulls a leg up on the couch and angles himself more towards Roy. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you for not actually having that stupid epipen on you. Because fucking hell, mate.” Jamie runs a hand through his hair. “That can’t happen again. Was fucking terrifying.”
“Not exactly a fucking walk in the park for me either,” Roy says.
“I get that, but if you don’t start carrying one, then I will, because yeah, fuck that. Not doing that again.”
“You’re serious?” Roy stares at him.
“Fuck yes,” Jamie says, leaning forward. “I meant it. You don’t get to die on me.”
“Because the press will blame you,” Roy remembers.
“No…because…well, forget it,” Jamie sighs. “It’s late, and you should probably get some sleep.”
“What were you going to say?” Roy was surprised. Jamie usually isn’t one to hold back when it’s just the two of them.
“Because believe it or not, I do care about you,” Jamie admits. “Now go the fuck to bed. Because you're going to fucking need it. And so do I because I already know the team’s going to annoy you if you’re knackered. You’ll call drills and ‘m not doing those fucking knackered.”
Roy nods and says, “Fair play.”
They say goodnight.
Roy wakes up to the smell of fresh coffee and leaves his room to find Jamie and Phoebe making breakfast. Roy stops and takes in the scene in front of him. Jamie is making eggs, and Phoebe is buttered toast. Jamie had said something funny because Phoebe is laughing, and Jamie looked proud of himself. Roy gets a sudden feeling of want. And he isn’t exactly sure what that means. Obviously, coffee and food that wasn’t fucking liquid. But that wasn’t the kind of want this was. He wanted this to be a regular thing. To spend time like this. Jamie and Phoebe got on like a house of fire. And that made him insufferably endearing. Because Phoebe liking Jamie means a lot more to him than Roy even thought possible. And Jamie likes when people are happy. Roy used to think Jamie just liked the attention because of his ego. But now, Roy knows that it’s not his ego. Jamie is actually a people pleaser. Jamie craves validation. And fuck the way Jamie grins when looks at him like he is actually happy to see Roy. And Jamie said he cared about Roy. Fuck, it is too early for this many feelings.
"Morning, Coach," Jamie grins. Roy just grunts. "For the man that bangs on my door at 4 a.m. almost every day, you aren't looking much like a morning person." Roy flips him off as he gets coffee, and Jamie laughs. Phoebe giggles too. And Roy gets the strangest feeling in his chest. It stops him in his tracks. The sound of Jamie and Phoebe laughing in Roy's kitchen, even if it is at his expense, gave him fucking butterflies. That was not a feeling Roy was expecting first thing in the fucking morning. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand touches his shoulder. He turns, and Jamie looks at him. The jovial mood is gone, replaced by a look of concern on the striker's face. "You good? Jokes aside, you gave everyone a hell of a scare yesterday. If you're not feeling it today, you can-"
"I'm fine, Tartt. Try not to burn my flat down making breakfast," Roy says to redirect the conversation because there was no fucking way he was going to tell Jamie that it felt like his skin was electric where Jamie touched him. Fuck. Roy needed to get his shit together. This was Jamie Tartt—Prince of all pricks. But Jamie had stayed with him since Roy started having trouble breathing. And if he wasn't with Roy, he had been with Phoebe. Never leaving her until she was safe and no longer afraid. Phoebe had told him when Jamie had gone to meet the takeaway delivery driver at the door after they got home that Jamie had kept her busy and made her forget how worried she was when they were waiting at the hospital. That he only left her if he absolutely needed to and always made sure someone on staff knew she was alone so they could at least check on her. Luckily they all knew her mum, so they didn't really mind a few minutes if Jamie needed to make a call or use the loo. But he only did that once or twice because he didn't want to leave her alone in case something happened. And that hit Roy hard. Jamie really did give his all to the people in his life. He cared about Phoebe. He had no obligation to do what he had done, but Jamie didn't seem to hesitate. Just like jamming the needle into Roy's leg. No hesitation because when Jamie Tartt cared, he went fucking hard. Just like on the pitch. Nothing else mattered. He's thinking steps ahead, analyzing threats, and coming up with contingencies. Give that anxious energy of his a task, and it gets done. Not always the conventional way, but it gets done. And his current task was breakfast for the three of them.
Roy’s sister came round to pick up Phoebe after they ate.
Jamie cleans up the mess he made for breakfast, despite Roy’s protest. Jamie just shrugs him off, saying it’s just to keep busy before they head out to training.
Roy drives them both to training.
Roy finds himself watching Jamie more than usual as the team trains.
Jamie goes over as they break for lunch.
“I’m fine, Jamie. You don’t have to babysit me anymore,” Roy assures him as they head inside.
“Great, so does that mean you have no interest in getting lunch with me?” Jamie asks as he heads to the locker room.
Unlike the last couple of meals, Roy does have the ability to say no. To spend time without Jamie, but the more Roy thinks about it, he actually wants to go with Jamie. So Roy follows Jamie.
“I could eat,” Roy says and is glad he did because Jamie fucking smiles at him. And Roy’s stomach flips when Jamie nods.
Roy finds that lunch is an easy affair. They get food at the canteen and find a table. It’s nothing out of Roy’s normal day, but it feels different. It feels comforting. It helped to calm the nerves he’d had since he walked through the locker room doors, and the team bombarded him with questions. His fellow coaches kept telling him to take it easy. The med team checked in with him multiple times, and Roy just wanted things to be normal. The only person that wasn’t actually acting insane was Jamie, but Jamie had been with Roy since he first realized what had happened at the cafe. Jamie had a front-row seat to Roy getting better. And Roy realizes how much Jamie has actually been dealing with while helping Roy. He’d been the one in contact with the team. He was the one fielding two dozen people wanting to know how Roy was doing. Jamie had kept his bosses in the loop and kept anyone from bothering Roy while he was recovering. Roy set his sandwich down and looked at Jamie.
“You alright?” Jamie asks, now studying Roy closely.
“I didn’t thank you,” Roy says bluntly.
“For inviting you to get lunch where we both work?” Jamie asks.
“For fucking everything. For saving my life. For taking care of Phoebe. For dealing with these idiots,” Roy says, gesturing to the team members scattered around the tables of the canteen. “I’m a fucking prick for not thanking you sooner. So thank you, Jamie. For making sure I didn’t die because of a fucking smoothie.”
“Don’t mention it,” Jamie says.
“But I should. You didn’t have to do any of it. You could have just done nothing like most of the people there. The cafe workers barely did shit. You did it. And that’s not something I’m going to just write off. You saved my life. No one has to put on fucking suits and dress shoes for another funeral. You kept me alive. I owe you-”
“You don’t owe me shit, Roy,” Jamie says earnestly. “You’ve fucking seen me at my worst, and you didn’t hesitate to help me. Fucking hugged me, and you don’t hug anyone. You make sure I don’t fuck up and that I keep getting better. The fact you get up at fucking 3 a.m. so you can help me when you really don’t have to. You have done so fucking much for me, even when I used to be such a fucking prick. I can’t ever-”
“You’ve made me better too. You get that, right?” Roy says in all seriousness. “You challenge me the good way, always keeping me on my fucking toes. My sister and Phoebe think you bring out a fucking passion that I’d lost, that and Phoebe is fucking thrilled and keeps asking me if you’ll help her learn to ride a bike.”
“Fuck yeah,” Jamie smiles. “If I could get your stubborn arse to do it, she’ll be a delight.”
“Guess I have to buy her a fucking bike now,” Roy grins.
“Fuck off,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll fucking love every minute of it.”
“Fucking shops always upsell that shit,” Roy laments and goes back to eating, awkward feelings discussion seemingly over.”
Jamie ends up looking through bikes online and which shop to go to. Jamie doesn’t need to go with them, but he’s apparently going to. And Roy is oddly fine with the idea of Jamie joining them. To see Jamie and Phoebe doing mundane shit like he had that morning made Roy’s stomach flutter in a good way.
Roy’s flat is too quiet. He wouldn’t have minded the quiet less than two days ago, but after having Jamie and Phoebe there to fill the space had been something he didn’t know he wanted. Even when Phoebe hadn’t been there, Jamie had. Even when he was just doing dishes, Jamie just had a way of filling the space, making it feel less empty. He would chat with Roy or just fucking exist, and that was enough to make it feel less lonely. And Roy couldn’t believe he was missing Jamie fucking Tartt. He might regret it, but he ends up texting Jamie and making plans for training the next morning. Because Jamie had missed one morning, and Roy was not going to be the reason Jamie slacked off. Jamie hadn’t argued.
The next few days, Roy finds himself talking to and texting Jamie more than anyone else.
Keeley grins as she approaches Roy before their match against Brighton.
“What?” Roy grunts.
“How you feeling?” She asks.
“I’m fucking fine.” Roy is so tired of answering that question. He grunts and waves her off.
“That’s good. How’s Jamie?” She grins.
“He’s fucking ready to fuck up Brighton,” Roy states. “How else would he be?”
“You tell me since you have been chatting him up,” Keeley studies his reaction.
“Fuck off,” Roy glares at her. “I have not.”
“So you haven’t been texting him for the past few days? Like actually texting him when you don’t need to.” Roy just grunts. “Admit it, Roy-o.” Keeley smiles. “You-”
Roy pulls her aside into his office and closes the door.
“Whoa,” Keeley says, looking positively giddy. “You actually do have feelings for him, don’t you?”
“Keeley, you can’t-”
“I won’t tell anyone, but you have to tell him,” Keeley insists. “Roy, he fucking adores you. Always has, but after that shit with his dad at Wembley. And whatever happened in Amsterdam, he rarely talks about anyone else or anything. It's football, whatever PR I am helping him with, maybe his mum and you. I don't know how much he has told you, but that man fucking cried when he got home the other day. Like it was over 24 hours later, and it's like he finally could process everything. And the idea of losing you fucking hit him like a bus."
"He did not tell me that," Roy says.
"Of fucking course not. He probably thinks you'd think he's needy or too clingy."
"Fuck," Roy says as he sits down. He'd thought a lot about Jamie the last few days. But the idea that Jamie could feel the same way had never crossed his mind. Sure, Jamie said he cared for Roy. But they were mates now, and that was enough for Roy. Or it had been. "You really had to do this right before a fucking match," Roy says with a glare at Keeley.
"Sorry, not sorry," Keeley says and goes off to find Rebecca.
They win because Jamie Tartt is a fucking mastermind on the pitch. Knows exactly where the ball needs to go and how to get it there. And Roy couldn't be more proud of him. As Roy makes his way out onto the pitch, he has the urge to fucking kiss the striker in front of a stadium full of fans. And that is a very fucking bad idea. So instead, he hugs Jamie and tells him he did fucking great.
When the team makes it to the locker room, Jamie is flying high on the win and the fact Roy had actually smiled at him and hugged him. And Jamie doesn’t think his day can get better. But Roy drags him into the boot room, and before Jamie can say anything, Roy says he wants to kiss Jamie. Jamie just fucking nods, and then Roy fucking kisses him, and Jamie wonders if he is the one that almost died a few days ago because this has to be a dream because Roy has him backed against one of the shelves. One hand is in Jamie’s hair, and the other gripping his hip, and Jamie can only pull him closer and kiss him back. The door opens, and an amused Will walks in. Roy goes to pull away, but Jamie won't let him.
“Don’t mind us, Mr. Kitman,” Jamie chuckles as he steps to the side and takes Roy by the wrist. Roy says nothing and refuses to make eye contact with Will as Jamie drags him out of the room. “Want to get out of here?” Jamie says lowly to Roy, looking up at him from under his lashes. And Roy answers him by gripping his face and kissing him again.
“Get your shit,” Roy says. “And get your arse in the fucking car.” Jamie fucking moans into Roy’s mouth when he kisses him one last time. Earning a few interesting looks from the nearest players, but no one says anything about it. No one gives them shit. And Roy can appreciate that. Jamie quickly gets out of his sweaty kit and shoves his jacket in his bag because fuck that. He’s in a hurry, and Roy is watching him with amusement because he is less than graceful as he hurries. They don’t say a word to anyone as they leave. They barely say anything until they are locked away in Roy’s flat.
“You know the entire team will know by tonight, right?” Jamie says as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his bag near the wall.
“Fuck ‘em,” Roy says as he takes his jacket off and tosses it aside.
“Rather be the one fucked,” Jamie grins, and Roy growls. “That’s some articulate response there, coach. Didn’t quite get that, did you-” Roy cuts Jamie off with an aggressive kiss. It’s all passion and teeth as he bites Jamie’s lip. Jamie gives him what he wants and opens his mouth to him. Roy pins him to the wall and fucking explores Jamie as well as he can while they are both fully clothed in the fucking hallway. And as much as Jamie would happily let Roy fuck him against the wall in his entryway, he knows Roy’s knee is fucked, and he wants Roy to actually enjoy being with Jamie. So Jamie has to pull away. Roy growls when, again, Jamie slips out from between him and where Roy had him pinned. But his annoyance is gone when he looks over at Jamie. Jamie is already pulling his shirt over his head and heading down the hall.
“You coming or what?” Jamie smirks as he tosses his shirt at Roy. Roy catches it and drops it on top of Jamie’s bag, and follows Jamie down the hall. He tugs his own shirt off as he reaches his bedroom and tosses it aside. Jamie’s trackies are gone. Roy can understand why Keeley went back to Jamie for a good time after they broke up because fucking hell, Jamie Tartt had to have been sculpted by a higher power. And Roy doesn’t hesitate. He’s on Jamie before the smug prick can make a joke about Roy eye fucking him. A breathless laugh is all Jamie manages as Roy gets Jamie in his bed. Jamie is less talkative in bed than Roy would have thought. Sure, he had a fucking dirty mouth, but Roy fucking loves the wordless noises that Jamie makes as Roy methodically takes him apart and fucking ruins Jamie Tartt. The way Jamie moans his name pushes Roy over the edge, and they both end up panting for breath side by side in Roy’s bed. But that has an unexpected reaction from Jamie. Roy had expected him to maybe be a cuddler. Jamie is on his side and looking down at Roy, studying him. And Roy realizes Jamie is a lot less relaxed than he was a second ago.
“What?” Roy manages to ask. “What’s wrong?” And Roy is unnerved when Jamie just shakes his head lays down with his head on Roy’s chest. Jamie is silent. His ear was over Roy’s heart.
And Roy gets it. Roy had been trying to catch his breath. The last time Jamie heard him struggling to breathe was far less enjoyable for both of them. So he runs his fingers through Jamie’s hair silently. But he knows he has to say something when he hears Jamie sniffle.
“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Roy says, wrapping his arms around Jamie to emphasize his point.
"Sorry," Jamie mutters.
"Don't be," Roy says honestly.
"That's the thing, I know you're fine, I really do." He shifts so he can see Roy.
"Bit better than fine," Roy grins.
Jamie huffs a laugh, but it seems half-hearted.
"I know but-"
"But it is an impulsive reaction. No rationality to it. Just you hear it, and you can't help but react."
"Yeah, fucking annoying," Jamie laments.
"It's fucking adorable," Roy says.
"Is not," Jamie says. "Me being stupid afraid is not adorable."11
"It's a trauma reaction, Jamie," Roy tells him. "PTSD shit. You can't predict what triggers that shit. You know that. I think it's adorable because it means even when you aren't worried about what is going on, part of your brain is still making sure I'm not dying."
"Well, it doesn't feel adorable," Jamie sighs. Move until he can tuck his head into Roy's neck. Roy holds him close.
"I'm sure it doesn't," Roy agrees. "But we can work on it. If it's trauma-based, then it'll get better in time."
"Except it could fucking happen again," Jamie points out.
"And we'll fucking deal with it again if it does."
"Roy," Jamie moves to get up. And Roy lets him because he knows Jamie does not do well if he can't move.
"Jamie," Roy says back, and it somehow sounds like a challenge, and Jamie doesn't know what to say now. Roy shakes his head and disappears into his bathroom. He tosses something Jamie catches on muscle memory alone. Jamie looks down, and it's another EpiPen.
"There, and there's a new one in the glove box, and Gayle got two more for Nelson Road. They already have them for public first aid. One is in my desk, and the other is in the treatment room now too. Does that make you feel better?"
"It does a bit," Jamie says.
"Just a bit?"
"Means you took what I said seriously," Jamie says.
"Of fucking course I did," Roy says as he starts to put on a pair of pants. "Did you think I would just shrug it off?"
"Maybe," Jamie says as he gets partially dressed.
"Well, I didn't because it fucking sucked for me but also for you and Phoebe. And the team."
"You also could have fucking died," Jamie says flatly, and Roy goes over to him and pulls him close.
"But I didn't because of you. And I'll try and make sure it won't happen again. Can't fucking guarantee anything, but I will try because I don't want any of you to worry."
"I'm going to worry, just like you do," Jamie says. "Because I care."
"And it blows my fucking mind you do," Roy admits.
"Fuck it," Jamie says and drags Roy towards the ensuite. "We're going to shower, then getting food, and then get fucking dirty again."
"Sounds good to me."
#tw: allergic reactions#tw: Content warning: Allergic Reactions#tw: Hospitals#tw: needles#tw: epipens#tw: medical emergencies#tw: ptsd#tw: trauma reactions#tw: anaphylaxis#roy kent#ted lasso fic#jamie tartt#jamie x roy#roy x jamie#royjamie#phoebe kent#phoebe o'sullivan#phoebe ted lasso
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Over and Over: Whumptober Day 8 (JJBA)
Today’s @whumptober prompt is more Josuke whump. Gave the poor kid appendicitis today.
Prompt: Everything Hurts and I’m Dying (stomach pain)
Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 4
Character: Josuke
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Read on Ao3
Read on FF.net
Masterpost
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Josuke woke up feeling like crap that morning.
He probably should have begged off school, but he didn't have a fever and he wasn't sneezing so his mom probably would have told him to go anyway. Besides, it was mostly just a stomach upset—probably something he'd eaten the day before or whatever. He wasn't originally going to worry too much about it, but then while he was sitting in the middle of second period, the pain seemed to be growing worse.
By lunch, he really wished he had stayed home.
"You're not eating anything, bro?" Okuyasu asked him as the three of them sat in their favorite spot on the low wall outside the cafeteria.
"Nah, my stomach kind of hurts today," Josuke muttered, drinking some water and trying to ignore the growing nausea.
Koichi frowned at him worriedly. "You look a little pale, are you sure you aren't getting sick or something?"
"Maybe," Josuke said, wrapping a protective arm around his middle. It wasn't exactly uncommon for him to have pain relating to the injuries he'd gotten from his fight with Kira, but…this wasn't in the same spot as the scar tissue that usually gave him trouble. Which made him wonder what the hell this was all about if it wasn't that.
"If you feel that bad maybe you should go to the nurse," Koichi said.
"Yeah, then maybe she'll send you home," Okuyasu added hopefully.
"I'm fine, really. Besides, I don't want my mom to get a call at work. It would just worry her."
His friends were silent. They actually knew more about how worried Josuke's mom had been while he was in the hospital than he did since he'd at least been unconscious for most of it. Still, he knew how much anything having to do with his health sent her off these days and if this was just a stomach bug, there was no point in worrying her. He'd just forget about homework today and sleep it off when he got home.
The nausea, unfortunately, seemed to only get worse as the day went on. Accompanied by the constant ache in his stomach, he was afraid he was going to puke. Honestly Josuke just wanted to lay down. He almost caved and asked to go to the nurse, but he only had one more class that day and didn't think it was really worth it. He'd probably get home sooner if he just waited now.
He breathed an audible sigh of relief as the last bell rang and hurried out of the school, meeting up with the others to walk home.
"You really don't look that good," Koichi told him as Josuke tried not to lag too noticeably.
"I feel pretty crappy," Josuke admitted honestly, and, yeah, he felt even worse than he had that morning. He had that horrible feeling in the back of his throat, like dread, that came before you threw up. Maybe he should stop fighting it so much and just do it. He might actually feel better, especially if this was food poisoning or something. But if it was, wouldn't be have been throwing up way more already? Probably some stomach flu then, unless…
The doctors had said there was a possibility of the scar tissue in his side causing problems in the future, but the majority of the pain was actually focused on the opposite side of his injury, so he really didn't think it was that. Maybe he should just stop eating cheap convivence store food.
"I hope you feel better tomorrow," Koichi told him as he left to split off down his street.
"Yeah, thanks," Josuke murmured, swallowing hard against the urge to vomit.
He and Okuyasu continued to their own street, when Josuke just couldn't swallow down the nausea anymore and staggered toward the bushes to one end of the sidewalk stomach heaving.
"Dude!" Okuyasu cried as Josuke gagged and vomited into the bushes, clutching his stomach as the action sent pain tearing through his middle.
He was forced to his knees as he retched again and Okuyasu threw his school bag on the ground, hurrying to grab Josuke's shoulder before he simply faceplanted in the bushes.
"You all right, Josuke?" his friend asked helplessly, rubbing his back as he kept a firm grip on Josuke's shoulder.
Josuke groaned, and finally managed to catch his breath a little, spitting onto the ground. God, why did his stomach hurt so much? He blinked wetness from his eyes and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand with disgust.
"You feel any better now?" Okuyasu asked hopefully.
"Not really," Josuke groaned, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he tried to breathe through the pain. "Stomach really hurts."
Okuyasu furrowed his brows. "You sure you shouldn't go to a doctor?"
"Nah, I'm just gonna sleep it off." Josuke started to climb to his feet, wincing slightly. Okuyasu helped him up and kept a hand on his shoulder the rest of the way to his house. Josuke was grateful for the support.
Okuyasu walked him to his door. "You sure you're gonna be okay, man?"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna rest," Josuke tried to smile but thought it was probably more of a grimace.
"Okay. See you later then."
Josuke unlocked the door and headed straight to his room, changing into his pajamas before crawling into bed. He felt a little better lying down, but was worried about the nausea coming back. That thought reminded him of the taste of bile still in his mouth and with a wince, he got up and went to brush his teeth, also grabbing some pain medicine.
When he was done, the front door opened as his mom came back.
"I'm home," she called.
Josuke bit his lip. He really didn't want her to know he was feeling so bad. He peeked down the stairs and she stared at him in surprise.
"What's this? Already in your pajamas."
Josuke forced a laugh. "Yeah, I feel kinda crappy, honestly. There's been something going around at school and I think I finally caught it."
His mom's brows instantly furrowed. "You're sick?"
"Don't worry about it, I just feel kind of gross. I'm just gonna sleep it off."
"Josuke, are you sure you're okay?" his mom asked.
For a brief second, Josuke thought about telling her how much his stomach hurt, but He still didn't think it was anything more than a stomach flu—the vomiting had pretty much confirmed that—so he didn't want her to get worked up over nothing.
"Yeah, nothing a little sleep won't fix," he said tiredly.
His mom sighed. "Well, all right, but tell me if it gets worse? I'll make sure to call into the school for you tomorrow."
"Thanks, mom," Josuke said and retreated to his room.
He flopped down on his bed and curled up into a position that hurt the least. After that he fell asleep pretty quickly.
XXX
He must have been out because he didn't wake again until next morning when his mom came to see him before work, pressing a hand worriedly to his forehead.
"Hm?" Josuke murmured, groggy.
"You're a little warm. I've left some medicine for the fever on your bedside table. There's also some soup in the fridge. Make sure to stay hydrated, okay?"
"'Kay," Josuke replied as his mom ran a hand briefly through his messy hair before she left.
Josuke took a deep breath and rolled over to sit up and take the medicine.
Pain ripped through his right side and he gasped out loud, doubling over.
"Shit," he hissed, swallowing down the instant nausea that welled in his throat. It wasn't going anywhere though and Josuke finally forced himself up and staggered across the hall, just barely making it before he threw up in the toilet.
The pain that resulted in just about made him pass out. He ended up lying on the cold tile floor, clutching his stomach and feeling like he was dying.
He was still there when the knock came on the door.
He groaned, but finally peeled himself off the floor and rinsed his mouth before he staggered downstairs and went to see who it was—if they were even still there.
It was Koichi and Okuyasu.
"Wow, you look awful," Koichi said worriedly as Josuke leaned against the door frame, a hand pressed to his stomach.
"We figured you probably weren't coming to school today, but we wanted to see if you needed anything," Okuyasu added.
Josuke shook his head. "No, I…I just need to lay down."
His knees shook and the urge to vomit was back. "Sorry," he gasped and hurried to the bathroom again, retching up bile since he had nothing in his stomach. As soon as he got his breath back he was sobbing from the pain.
"Josuke, you look really sick," Koichi said worriedly as he and Okuyasu appeared behind him to help steady him. Okuyasu handed him a cup of water and Josuke took it shakily, rinsing his mouth. "Did you tell your mom?"
"Didn't know it was this bad," Josuke muttered. Not exactly the truth, but maybe it was his fault for the denial.
"I really think you should see a doctor," Koichi said.
Josuke sank down until his back was against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. "Don't want to go to the hospital again," he said truthfully, rubbing at his eyes. "I hate it. And I can't stand seeing my mom worry."
His friends took seats on opposite sides of him.
"What about if we go with you?" Koichi said.
"Yeah, you can get checked out and if it's nothing, your mom doesn't need to know," Okuyasu added.
Josuke wiped a hand under his nose. They were right, he knew it, but still…
"You'll miss school."
"It's all right, we'll just say we were helping a friend. I know my parents won't get mad about that," Koichi told him with a smile.
Josuke let out a shuddering breath and finally nodded. "Okay. I'll go."
They took a taxi and Josuke somehow managed not to throw up in the car. The nagging pain had turned to a constant ache now, and Josuke leaned against Okuyasu's shoulder while they sat in the waiting room, exhausted and hurting.
"Josuke Higashikata."
Dread welled up in his throat as he heard his name called. Koichi and Okuyasu gave him encouraging looks as Okuyasu helped him to his feet and Josuke followed the nurse.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait too long for the doctor who came in to examine him, asking Josuke about when he'd started feeling the pain.
Josuke nearly bit through his lip as the doctor felt his stomach, it hurt so bad.
"And the pain is concentrated around here, correct?" the doctor asked as he pressed the area to the right of Josuke's belly button.
"Yeah," he gasped.
The doctor nodded and took a few notes.
"So is it just a stomach flu?" Josuke asked half-heartedly.
The doctor looked at him. "No, I'm afraid not. But the good news is that I do know what it is."
"W-what?" Josuke asked.
"Appendicitis."
Josuke felt his heart sink as the dread sank back in. That would mean more surgery. Shit. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried to blink them away, but the doctor saw them anyway and reached out to rub Josuke's shoulder comfortingly.
"I promise it will be all right. It's a simple procedure and not at all an uncommon problem. We'll have you taken care of by tonight. I'll have the nurse get you settled. Would you like your friends to come stay with you?"
Josuke nodded gratefully. "Yeah, and…can I call my mom? She's at work."
"Of course."
Josuke dreaded making the call, but knew it would be better for his mom to hear it from him instead of someone else. Koichi and Okuyasu sat there with him for support when she showed up at the hospital, demanding to know why he hadn't told her it was so bad. Josuke didn't have an answer and instead just started crying. He blamed the pain and fever for it but it was still embarrassing.
His mom stopped talking though and simply pulled him into a hug, holding onto him until the doctors came to prep him for surgery.
It wasn't nearly as bad as the last time. They promised he would be out in a couple days, and he had to admit that between the lack of an infected appendix and the pain medicine he felt a lot better now.
Plus, he also got to eat all the jello and ice cream he wanted. That definitely made up for some of it.
#whumptober2022#no.8#everything hurts and I'm dying#stomach pain#jojo's bizarre adventure#jjba part 4#fanfiction#diamond is unbreakable#sick Josuke#josuke higashitaka#Josuke and okuyasu#tw: hospitals#tw: vomiting#Josuke whump
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The Impossible Choices We Make for the Badge
@avictimofthejazz continuedfrom X
Though it has been nearly forty-eight hours, the incessant wail of sirens still lingers as crisp and unwavering as if they were still rolling. Waking or sleeping, it’s engrained into the very fabric of Malloy’s being. Fatigued muscles find no respite in chairs, in pacing, or in long shuffles down hallways. The Strawberry Fox is restless, overwrought with a concern that he can neither placate nor dismiss.
Pete is powerless to keep his mind from replaying the moment where he watched Reed’s frame crumple to the ground over and over again. Once more he feels his quaking fingers coil inwards as if clenching his fist would expel all the unwanted emotions penting up inside of him.
He made a judgement call when he saw Wells and Brinkman hovering over his fallen partner. Pete’s heart might be tangled in barbed wire and bleeding out for his brother, but he still had a job to do. He swore an oath to protect and serve. Right then, his duty lay with ending a threat to the citizens of Los Angeles and he prayed Reed would forgive his hasty exit.
The firefight that came next was no less predictable. Six bullet dents in the cruiser later and the gunman sprawled out in the middle of some darkening street. With the spell of falling of red and white lights, he knew that his intentions of racing back to Reed would be hopelessly derailed. His split-second call now ate away at him like corrosive sulfuric acid. Reed might die. He might die and their last exchange, though poignant, was a lousy crumb to be left holding. A multitude of regret lodges in Pete’s throat as thickly as if he’d eaten another one of Jean’s peanut-butter and banana sandwiches. Only this was one lump, he couldn’t swallow down.
IA ordered Malloy back to the station which, is exactly where he headed. He shot and killed the gunman. The department was right to bring him in for questioning; even if being grilled wasn’t the most delightful part of his job. It was stressful. They pried into every corner of one’s life with a massive spotlight. Every mistake, every flaw was amplified under a microscope until there is nothing left to probe.
Pete is left to wait in torment. Every time he ventured to check his brother’s status, he was given a vague or benign answer. Both of which were irksome. Yet, they were as anticipated. His mind ought to stay on the board of inquiries, yet he found it wondering back to his fallen partner. Internally, he is already scripting a remorse ladened speech to Jean. One, Pete hopes to discard by morning.
Did time habitually trickle by as if it’s trapped in slow motion? Malloy questions himself as he refilled his styrofoam coffee cup for the –was it twelfth time? He’s guzzled so much of the dark fluid, he’s surprised he has any blood left in him.
Malloy is still highwired with caffeine when IA finally releases him. It is the only way he managed to prop himself up for the drive home. For the night, he is still under direct orders to make no contact with Jim or Jean or anyone else from the department. In the morning, he would be called with the board’s decision. If they found evidence of wrong-doing, he could be facing a suspension without pay, desk-duty, or worse a firing. With every optimistic ounce Malloy had left, he clings to the idea of returning to work. Of racing to the hospital the very second he is cleared.
Though he is sent to the wonderfully familiar confines of his apartment, there is no rest to be had. His movements are growing increasingly agitated. Every time the phone rings, he’s developed a twitch. His usually steady hands adopt heavy tremors till it is a near impossible task to keep hold of the receiver. Blessedly, the callers are wrong numbers or late night scammers. Even the televised classics, the very ones he used to enjoy, are not enough of a distraction. In his bed, he finds little sleep.
Every time Malloy attempted to shutter his warring eyes, he was stuck reenvisioning every excruciating memory. Scabs that had once healed over were ripped open anew, till they were smarting, raw, and exposed. The first of them involved the warehouse bust that left his first youthful rookie dead and dying. His hands were helplessly tainted with a scarlet that soaked deep into every crater and grove of his palms. He desperately tried to revive him for is eight-month-old daughter’s sake and his young wife’s. It was to no avail. The horror of the scene was so great he was ready to resign. Pictures of a life snuffed out well before his time bled seamlessly into Reed. His dauntless second rookie who, just might have thought himself dead. Lt. Moore’s words are of little comfort in the moment. “You might be the only guy who could keep him alive.” Discomfort needles in his spine so hard, it might as well have been an ax felling a mighty oak. Guilt pinches his eyebrows together as his emerald orbs traverse the dark room. There isn’t a place he could hide from this, this successive battering of memories he’d just as soon trade in.
Pete doesn’t recollect the drive to the hospital or his shuffle down the sterile halls until he reached Reed’s room. It’s all a blur. So when he pops open the door, he skipped the usual pleasantries. He went right into addressing his partner.
“They told me you were caught napping on the job, but I didn’t want to believe it.” He deadpans as he enters the room alluding to Wells, Woods, and Brinkman. Joviality is the furthest descriptor from the true state of his spirit given the truth of the matter. Yet, he could not allow Reed to worry about him in his condition. “Didn’t Mac explain there are easier ways to get days off?” Malloy prods teasingly.
Under the gentler prodding, is a more significant and serious one. “How bad is it?” When he spots Reed readjusting in the bed, he extends his own palms. “Easy, take it easy. I don’t need you ripping any stitches.” Lord knows Jim’s temporary replacement is going to make shift a trillion times longer and more frustrating. Reed really doesn’t need to add more days to that vacation of his. It’s going to be trial enough for both of them.
Beat didn’t begin to cover the world weariness carried in the curve of Malloy’s shoulders. When he flopped in the chair beside Reed’s bed, he thought it doubtful he’d be able to rise again. Yet, he still managed a grin for Jim's sake. His eyes raked over his partners form. For being shot, the kid looked pretty good. It made Malloy proud to be training someone with so much grit.
“Brought you some jello with a straw.” There are a hundred jokes he ought to make about Reed’s youth, but doesn’t. At least not out loud. Especially when Reed’s looking almost older than Mac. Instead, he tacks on, “in case chewing proves to be too difficult and tiring in your condition.” His grin grows even wider.
“Can you believe I cooked it and everything?” Watching the water boil was a covert way for Pete to kill time, to smother the demons whispering in the back of the head. Not that jello was really all that difficult to make. “So now you can’t say that I never made you anything.” He cheerfully remarks, passing it over. “Besides, I can’t have you getting all soft on me with this hospital food.” Malloy had enough experience eating the crap to know how thin a man could get just by ingesting it.
The topics segway into the mundane. Weather, sports, vague shift talk. Then the hammer falls, revealing quite an elephant of a nail in the room. The Strawberry Fox’s stance shifts. He understood what Reed was asking without having to delve any further or ask for some petty translation. Reed was asking if he abandoned him. The shock of the inquiry locks Malloy’s emerald eyes in place on the younger brunette.
There are a thousand of things he would have rather done than his job when Reed hit the scorching pavement. He wanted to go to him, to make sure that he was okay. However, their work wasn’t done. There was still an active threat to the community.
Malloy’s tongue traversed the caverns between his teeth with deliberate poise to keep his patience in check. “Someone has to do the job. That doesn’t mean we have to like it.” His tone is texturized with gravel-like gravity. And he had despised the job in that very moment. “I swore an oath. So did you. Do you remember what that oath is?” He paused to give Reed ample time to think. “We both swore to serve and protect. Now, as far as I remember, that isn’t just to serve and protect each other. It’s to protect the community.”
Sucking in an inhale, he explains further. “The gunman that shot you was headed to break into a residence. A residence, I later learned, was occupied with a young couple and their three babies. All the kids were under the age of six.” His fatigue grows ten-fold. He can’t even count how many times he’s had to relate the night’s events. Now, he’s being bid to revisit them. “When Wells and Brinkman radioed that they got you covered, I went after the man.” The truth was, Malloy had no intention of letting the would-be-killer off the hook.
He clears his throat, willing the mental image of the bloodied dead man and his forsaken gun to leave him. His trained eyes travel about the room before returning to Reed. “I wasn’t allowed to contact you after that.” Malloy’s nervous hands folded into his lap. “I got to see our friends from IA. You know how those kinds of conversations go....” He hopes that he doesn’t have to spell out what he’s done to his partner. That he took a life. At least, not at this stage of the game.
Shifting his muscles to get more comfort, Malloy offered a change of subject. “So how’s Jean handling this? Better yet, how are you handling this?”
#the impossible choices we make for the badge#Muse: Pete Malloy#avictimofthejazz#if the sky comes falling down for you - there's nothing in this world i wouldn't do (Malloy & Reed - brothers in arms)#Pete Malloy#Jim Reed#tw: mentions of blood#tw: mentions of death#tw: death#tw: hospitals#tw: long reply
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