#*uses a regular needle and immediately blows the vein*

[just-your-average-tangerine]

I desperately, desperately need phlebotomists to stop being competitive about my veins

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[lbigreyhound13]

I’m Sorry, Draw My...What?

By @lbigreyhound13 for @spooderboyandtincan

Rating: K+

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & May Parker, Peter Parker & May Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter, Tony, May, and Helen Cho

Summary: While Peter is on his way home from patrol, May and Tony talk about Peter's health and wonder if it's possible for him to get sick. There seems to be one option: take him to Dr. Cho and get a blood test. Only one problem...Peter is a bit squeamish.

AO3 LINK HERE

Prompt: Blood Draw

I’m Sorry, Draw My…What?

“Hi Mr. Stark, hi, May, on my way back from patrol! Bit of a graze on my shoulder from robbers…but I’m okay!”

“Okay, kid, thanks for giving your aunt and me a heart attack. Hurry back so we can stitch you up! If it’s bad, we’ll bring you to the tower.”

“Sounds good, Mr. Stark! See you in a bit!”

“I swear to God, he is going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Tony said as he turned to look at May on the couch.

May couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, at least, he was honest,” she said with a smile. “You think we’ll have to bring him to the Tower?”

“Well, he’s not asking me to come get him,” Tony said thoughtfully, “so it’s probably just a simple stitch.”

After Tony had Peter stay over for the weekend before Thanksgiving a few months ago, Tony made it mandatory that anytime Peter got injured in the field, he was to call for back-up or to come to him and May immediately. Tonight was easier because May had invited Tony to come over for dinner, so he could come back to the apartment where both Tony and May could stitch him up. May was a nurse, so it was easy to talk about stitching up Peter’s wounds if for some reason Tony wasn’t around.

“So, listen, I wanted to ask you something,” May said as she angled herself on the couch so that she was facing Tony.

“What’s up?” Tony said as he took one last look at his phone to make sure Peter was in fact on his way back from patrol.

May couldn’t help but smile at that. When Peter had first started interning for Tony…way before she found out he was actually Spider-Man…and that the billionaire knew the whole time, she thought that Tony was overworking Peter…putting so much pressure on him as he quit most of his clubs, especially the Decathlon Team, and at first, she wasn’t a huge fun. Now, however, seeing how much Tony actually liked having her nephew around…how they were becoming very close, she could see that it was the best thing for both of them. Tony was able to help Peter in ways she couldn’t…he was the male figure Peter needed, especially when he no longer had his father or her husband, and Peter seemed to brighten things up for Tony after what he went through during the debacle with the Accords…what the media called “the Civil War” with the Avengers.

“Well, given Peter’s spider powers…and his enhanced…I guess…senses and metabolism,” May began, “I was wondering if…there was a chance of him…getting sick.”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows together as he realized that he hadn’t thought of that before. A spider bit Peter about 6 months before they had met for the first time, and he had not seen the kid show any signs of getting sick. Injured, yes, but not sick, which begged May’s question. Could Peter get sick even with his abilities, especially with the fast healing?

“He hasn’t gotten sick after the spider bite?” Tony asked.

“Not since the day it happened,” May replied. “I don’t know if he’s ever told you, but…the day he was bitten, he came home and was extremely sick. He had a high fever, and he threw up—it was awful. Ben and I couldn’t get him a doctor’s appointment until the next day, but when we went in to get him the next morning, he was perfectly fine…almost as if he hadn’t been sick at all.”

“That could’ve been his body reacting to the bite…trying to adjust to…the changes,” Tony replied as he let May’s words sink in. “And he hasn’t been sick since then?”

“No, but I don’t know, I can’t help but wonder with it being flu season,” May said, “and…the school has been asking me for Peter’s updated immunization records. I…don’t want to risk anyone finding out about his secret, Tony.”

“Say no more, May,” Tony said quickly. “Dr. Helen Cho is our doctor, and she’s met Peter a few times. I have her and her team at the Compound. She can be Peter’s physician.”

“Really?” May asked eagerly. “Does she…does she know?”

“She does,” Tony said quickly, “and I can get her and the team to sign NDAs. They are completely trustworthy.”

“Okay,” May said, “well, I trust you to keep my baby safe, so, let’s do it. Umm…there’s actually something else that I wanted to ask you.”

“And that would be…”

“Since Peter…has these abilities,” May said, “I’ve…kind of noticed that he didn’t respond to medication well…like Tylenol or Advil. He would take the regular amount, but…it doesn’t seem to work on him as it would on you and me.”

“Well, that’s beauty of working with Dr. Cho,” Tony said. “She could take a sample of Peter’s blood and his DNA to come up with some medication for him and maybe even vaccines so that we can be prepared if he ever gets sick.”

“Thank you so much, Tony,” May said gripping Tony’s shoulder.

“Anytime, May,” Tony replied. “I can talk to Cho this week, and take Peter up to the Compound this Friday.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, then I’d better come.”

“Not that I don’t want you to, but…why?”

“Peter…gets a little nervous about blood tests and needles…”

“Oh…”

(line break)

“Do we really have to do this?” Peter asked with his face in his hands.  

Needless to say, when Tony and May told Peter what the plan was after he came home from patrol a few nights ago, he was…not that excited. He wasn’t angry. He knew he needed medication and vaccines that would meet his enhanced powers and abilities, especially if he were to ever get sick. Plus, going to a regular doctor would be impossible to do so without blowing his secret. This was the best option, and he knew it. He trusted Tony and May with his life, and they had the best intentions. However, that didn’t mean he wanted to go through with it. It was bad enough having to fast for the blood test when he had an enhanced metabolism, but the thought of Dr. Cho sticking a needle in his arm to draw blood made him squirm.

“For the millionth time, kid, yes, we do,” Tony said with a light chuckle as he patted Peter on the back. “Come on, you’ve met with Dr. Cho before. You like her.”

“Yeah, when she’s not sticking a needle in my veins…” Peter retorted as he lifted his face from his hands to look at Tony.

“Honey, I know you’re nervous,” May added gently from where she sat in the corner, “but we need to do this. You don’t react to medications the same way anymore, and we need to make sure we have something in case you get sick.”

“And for your vaccines and all that,” Tony added as he sat next to Peter on the table.

“I know, I know,” Peter groaned, “but I hate needles…and blood tests. Just the sight of…” Peter shuddered.

“I know, bud, I get it,” Tony said wrapping an arm around his intern holding him close to his side. “Remember the one time I tried to insert the sensors into my arm to call the suit to me…after New York…that was not easy. I still get squeamish sometimes.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know I was really hoping that being bitten by that spider would be the end of doctor visits unless I was seriously injured.”

Tony and May couldn’t help but laugh at Peter’s comment.

“I hate to break it to you, tough guy,” May said leaning forward in her chair, “but you’re enhanced…not God…or a god…in Thor’s case.”

“Technically, a demigod,” Tony added quickly, “but valid all the same.”

Peter looked at his mentor and then at his aunt before finally sighing as he rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m really not getting out of this, am I?” he asked aloud.

“Nope,” Tony and May said in unison.

(line break)

“Okay, are we ready?” Dr. Cho asked as she wrapped the tourniquet around Peter’s arm and searched the crease of his arm for a vein.

“Not really,” Peter said nervously eying the tourniquet on his arm like it was about to eat him alive.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Dr. Cho said with a small smile on her face. “It will just be a pinch, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Peter muttered to himself as Dr. Cho poked and prodded his arm to find the vein. He could see the needle on the stand next to her, and it was all he could focus on. He mentally kicked himself for acting like this. He was Spider-Man, and he went up against the Vulture and Captain America. Why was he so nervous whenever it came to needles and blood drawing? He could handle scary movies with Ned, so why was he being so difficult now?

“Kid, it’s okay to be a little nervous of needles,” Tony said to him somehow reading his thoughts. “No one enjoys this. It’s practically a requirement of being a human being.”

“Then why do we do it?” Peter asked as he watched Dr. Cho like a hawk as she finally found a vein under his skin and pressed her thumb before wiping the area on his skin with rubbing alcohol.

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” May quickly asked looking toward Tony.

“Yes, why don’t we talk about something else?” Tony said quickly agreeing with May. This was a part of their back-up plan if Peter still showed that that he was nervous. “How was school today? You didn’t really answer me when I picked you and May up.”

“Oh?” Peter said looking at Tony remembering that his mentor was right. He was so preoccupied with the impending blood test that he didn’t answer when Tony asked him about school. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It…was good! Ned spent most of the day talking to me about this new Star Wars Lego set that he hopes to buy with his birthday money, but—I don’t know—I was thinking about getting it for him instead. I think that would be an amazing gift, but I have to think about it. Oh, and my History teacher is going to have us do a project soon. I think it’s some kind of research project on—I think it’s going to be on more World History, and I mean, it’s fine. I’m just more into U.S. history, but that could be just me. Anyway, chemistry went well, too! I started thinking of some more ideas for my webshooters, and I thought maybe we can look at them at our next lab time.”

“Sure, we can do that, Peter,” Tony said as he listened to Peter’s monologue trying to take in every single word the kid was telling him with a smile on his face. He never got tired of taking or listening to Peter whenever he started rambling. It broke up the silence and lightened things up, as Peter always tended to do whenever he was around Tony, but it seems that now it was Tony’s turn to do just that. He looked down and noticed Dr. Cho pulling out the tube after the blood flowed through, and looked at Peter, who clearly didn’t notice. “Hey, Pete, guess what.”

“What?” the teenager asked.

“Dr. Cho is done,” the billionaire simply said.

“Huh?” Peter asked furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion. He looked and saw the doctor putting a cotton swab on his arm clearly to stop the bleeding.

“All finished,” Dr. Cho said with a smile as she gestured to the small tube on the table next to her.

“What?” Peter asked. “Are you sure? I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Exactly,” May said with a smirk. “Tony distracted you by getting you to talk.”

“And you forgot all about it, right?” Tony added. “Kid, we know you too well. Once you start talking, you tend to have tunnel vision, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

Peter ducked his head and blushed a shade of pink on his cheeks. He knew May knew about his nervousness around needles, but the fact that his mentor just learned about it and still tried to keep him from getting nervous just as his aunt did was amazing. It seemed like every day was just another reminder as to how lucky he was.

He smiled and looked at Tony. “Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he said.

“You’re welcome, kid,” Tony said with a smile of his own.

[siribear]

whisper lists sideways before falling. deacon catches her, one arm under her shoulders, while her pack clatters to the ground. her head falls back as her legs finally give out, and he braces himself for her full weight to fall against him. and it’s not much; for all her shit-talking and recklessness, she’s so small.

‘okay, pal, this isn’t funny,’ he says, waiting for the punch-line. there isn’t one. even maccready looks over at her, just as surprised as he is. ‘whisper,’ he tries again. her breathing’s too shallow for this to be a joke. blood trickles from the corner of her mouth.

fuck.

‘we gotta get her inside.’ maccready’s not looking at him, but past him, out to the parking garage next to the building. and there’s the silhouette of a pair of ferals on the roof of it, and another walking out of the entrance to investigate. ‘now.’

deacon hoists her up, her legs under his other arm, and bridal carries her back into the building. the irony isn’t lost on him as he shoulders the door to carry her over the threshold, but now’s not the time to think about barbara. he spares a glance behind him to see maccready grabbing her stuff as another feral begins to cross the parking lot.

‘find a room. i’m gonna brace the door, just in case.’

the sound of metal scraping against the floor echoes around the room as maccready pulls a bench in front of the main entrance. deacon enters the first room with a working door and lays whisper out on a spare bed. if he didn’t know better, she could simply be sleeping. passed out from exhaustion - and all the blood vomiting that obviously precedes it. but he knows better, so he scrolls through the tabs on her pipboy, searching for a general diagnostic option and - there.

vital signs: not great. not surprising with her breaths coming out in ragged wheezes. when the rest of the scan loads, he finds the culprit. her rads are high enough the brotherhood can probably see them from their airship. enough to be near-fatal. he drags out a couple of radaways to start, and preps the surgical tubing and a needle. it’s been a while since he’s done this, not since his last extended undercover op, and much longer since he’s done it for someone else. but back then it didn’t matter where he stuck the needle. he spares himself a shudder before finding a vein in her other arm.

maccready slips into the room, places her back at the foot of the bed. he doesn’t question deacon holding up the bag of radaway in lieu of an IV stand. instead, he says, ‘they won’t get through the door, but we’ve got a few hours until they scatter. scent of blood drew them in, i bet.’

deacon watches as her rads tick down agonizingly slowly. hours. ‘guess we should make ourselves comfortable. i think we should make s’mores.’

-

she sneezes. dust, she thinks. just dust. kicked up when she and rachel straightened up the apartment. that’s all. but then she sneezes again and her head goes fuzzy. claire blows her nose, pinches the bridge of it, and sighs. nate comes home tomorrow - for good. and, of course, she has to get sick. rachel would call it her luck; claire says the universe hates her, but at least a sink-hole hasn’t opened up and swallowed her. but the day is young.

and it’s not how she pictured their reunion, with her in bed feverish from a cold instead of - well.

claire looks around the newly tidied apartment. from the small ‘master’ bedroom, to the guest room-turned-office, the cramped kitchen, the smaller living room. they’re to start a family, but, as it is, she can barely fit a dog once nate moves in. a family - claire falls heavily into her favorite chair, props her chin up by her palm. a family. her and nate. from a random meeting in a bar to... this. and she’s excited.

the rest of the day is spent trying not to crawl into bed and say there for the next week. she prepares for tomorrow’s dinner instead. home-cooked, instead of the usual microwaved meals she’s more accustomed to, like the perfect american wife. that night, she takes medicine to chase away the cold. come morning, she checks herself over. make up to cover up her pallor, mint for her breath, and a softer perfume to hide the medicinal smell about her.

perfect. everything has to be perfect. her hands shake all the way to the airport, and yet there’s hardly any traffic. perfect. their reunion, soft and quiet, just two lovers coming together after a long time away. perfect.

the way nate immediately picks up on her cold? not perfect, thank you for asking.

dinner cools, half finished on the counter, and claire sits, propped up in her own bed, barely able to breathe through her nose.

‘claire.’ nate brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘you should have been resting. i could have called a cab.’

she rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her canned chicken noodle soup. ‘this wasn’t supposed to happen, obviously.’ the indignation in her nasally voice makes nate smile. ‘we were supposed to have this wonderful dinner and everything. i had it all planned out.’

calm, clear blue eyes smile back at her. ‘like the perfect wife?’ he chuckles, soft against the scar on his lip. ‘you didn’t have to - ‘ he pauses. ‘we aren’t... yet - ‘

‘the good, military man isn’t going to make an honest woman out of me?’ she sighs as dramatically as she can, and coughs. ‘and after all this trouble i went through. nathaniel, what would your mother say?’

nate blinks, wide-eyed and adorable. ‘that’s not what i meant.’

she smiles over her last sip. ‘then, yes, i will marry you.’

he places a hand against her forehead. ‘you seem to be feeling better if you can keep cracking jokes. here, i’ll take that.’ nate lifts the empty bowl from her hands and places a kiss high on her temple before turning to leave. ‘love you.’

‘i love you,’ she returns, eyes drooping. ‘nate, i...’

-

whisper opens her eyes slowly. ‘nate?’ she reaches out toward him when he turns back to her. one hand against his cheek, she rubs her thumb against the stubble she asked him to grow. ‘nate,’ she sighs. he takes her hand, removes it carefully from his face. ‘how long have i been asleep?’

‘only an hour or so.’ the voice that responds isn’t nate’s. she sits up immediately, arm tugging at the needle tucked under it.

‘what - ?’ whisper closes her eyes, hard, then opens them. she’s no longer in her small apartment bedroom, now lying on a weathered mattress in a ransacked room. ‘deacon, what happened?’

‘rad poisoning,’ deacon answers, voice rougher than normal. ‘when was the last time you checked your rads, partner? you were practically glowing. just in time for christmas in diamond city; you could have been the angel topper.’

whisper stares at him, frowning, then lets her gaze drift down to where his hand still hovers over hers. when she pulls away to take the needle from her arm, deacon doesn’t say anything. she looks up toward the door, over to maccready standing at the door, arms crossed.

‘you’re still here? shouldn’t you be - ‘ she swallows. ‘ - getting the cure to your son?’ deacon hands her a can of purified water. she drinks.

maccready huffs, pulls his hat down over his eyes. ‘a group of ferals crowded the place after you collapsed. couldn’t leave even if i wanted to.’ he sighs. ‘duncan can’t meet you if you’re dead.’

whisper averts her gaze in shame. she can’t meet his son - or her own - if she’s dead. ‘thank you,’ she tells him, then nods to the door. ‘is it clear?’

maccready unslings his rifle. ‘if it’s not, it’s gonna be. i’m ready when you are.’

-

thankfully, the ferals have gone by the they exit med-tek. maccready leads them back to goodneighbor, where they arrive long after dark. but the people of goodneighbor hardly keep regular schedules anyway. a fact he’s grateful for when he can still catch daisy before even she turns in for the day.

‘maccready,’ the ghoul greets him warmly. ‘you’ve been gone for a while. how’s my favorite guy been?’

he laughs, rubs the back of his neck. he’s always liked daisy. she’s been the only one he can trust here in the commonwealth. until recently. ‘i’m fine, daisy. more than fine.’ he pats the pocket of his jacket. ‘i’ve got it. duncan’s cure.’

her deep, black eyes widen. ‘you’re kidding. how’d you get it? last time the ferals almost got you.’

he gestures behind him, at alice leaning heavily against deacon, the both of them watching him. ‘she hired me on for a job, and, well - ‘ she beat an institute hitman to death with her bare hands. ‘ - she agreed to help me out.’

daisy looks over his shoulder. ‘huh, i remember you.’ daisy smiles. ‘thank you for helping out maccready. he’s a good kid.’

alice laughs. ‘he is. when he told me he had a kid of his own, i couldn’t not help, y’know?’

daisy eyes her, then deacon, and back. ‘nice to know the general of the minutemen really is a good person.’ when alice stiffens, ‘we all listen to the radio, and hancock talks to some of us. i may be old, but i can still put two and two together.’

‘old? you don’t look a day over a hundred, ma’am.’

daisy turns back to him. ‘i like her.’ maccready hands over the cure, tucked away in a box they found, double and triple packed to keep it safe. ‘i’ll make sure this makes it to duncan. got a trader that owes me a few favors.’

‘actually, daisy, i-i wanted to go with it.’

‘this is a very sudden goodbye, maccready.’

he shakes his head. ‘i plan to come back. i owe - i’m kind of a minuteman now. got a place up in sanctuary and everything.’

daisy smiles again, spares a glance toward alice. ‘well, all right, then. leave it to me. if you don’t mind watching the place for a minute, i’m gonna go talk to my guy. excuse me.’

alice walks fully into the corner store with deacon, of course, right behind her. ‘we aren’t staying here for the night. deacon... has some things he wants to check in on. so, i guess this is goodbye until you come back.’

maccready blinks, surprised. not that he should be, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed. he holds his hand out to her. ‘there’s, uh, really no way i can make this up to you. but thank you.’

she takes his hand and shakes it once before surprising him by pulling him into a hug. he has to lean over to return it, but he does, hiding his face in her shoulder. ‘make it up to me by coming back with duncan. i really can’t wait to meet him.’

she releases him with a kiss on his cheek. heat flushes his face, and in the streetlight he knows they can tell. ‘maybe-maybe he and shaun can be friends.’

her answering smile lights up the room, the alley, the city. in that moment, he understands deacon on at least one thing. ‘yeah, i think they could be. take care of yourself, maccready.’

deacon shakes his hand, and there’s no kiss on the cheek from him. but he does wish him well, grinning behind his sunglasses. ‘keep an eye on her. i imagine i’m not getting paid if she-if anything happens before i get back.’

‘all about the money with you,’ alice says with a shrug and a sigh, but still a friendly wave.

‘here.’ deacon pushes a small bag into his hands. ‘money and supplies she’s been setting aside for your trip.’ he turns to make sure she isn’t listening, but, no, she’s talking to the neighborhood watch. ‘she was going to leave it for you in the morning, but plan’s changed.’

maccready weighs it. it’s enough caps to last him months, and what feels like half their stash of stimpaks and radaways. which she wouldn’t have been able to put together with at least some of deacon’s input. but he lets deacon think he doesn’t know. ‘tell her i said thank you, again. caravan guards aren’t going to be as good as you two.’

'oh, we know. hence the supplies. take care, maccready.’

-

‘done talking to your best friend?’ whisper greets deacon when the neighborhood watch leaves her.

‘nah, partner.’ he slings an arm around her shoulders. ‘i’m talking to her right now. what was that about?’

immediately she shifts so he can take her weight. ‘hancock just wants to talk. then we can head back.’ to hq, goes unsaid. ‘he’s still up, so, shall we?’

he sweeps his arm toward the state house. ‘after you.’

[mercurymetals]

How would the La squadra gang react to their catching their S/o cheating?

Ha. Now this I like.

General content warning, because some of these can get pretty grim. Not all are yandere-based, but some are. Avoid Risotto’s and Sorbet/Gelato’s if you’re squeamish.

La Squadra Reactions to Catching Their S/O Cheating

Risotto Nero

Risotto is not prone to forgiveness, and by cheating on him you’re going to find out about this first hand.

If Risotto happens to catch you kissing someone, expect to be tasting blood. The moment you break away from your partner, you’ll get an up close view of them suddenly coughing up hundreds of razors, their blood splattering all over you. This will probably be when you realise you’ve fucked up big time.

Any pleading from your side would be completely ignored by Risotto. He’d use Metallica to drain your partner of all the iron in their blood, watching them slowly expire without a word. Then he’d turn to you, and the cold fury in his eyes would tell you this was just the beginning.

After he drags you back to his place, your initial punishment would be similar to that of your partner’s. You’d be forced to spit up razors, tear needles right out of your veins; Risotto would treat the whole thing as an interrogation, questioning what you did and why you did it. With your mouth full of metal, it’s not like you can reply, but it doesn’t matter. Risotto doesn’t actually want to hear your excuses, he just wants to hurt you as much as you hurt him for what you did.

When he’s done torturing you, don’t expect to be leaving any time soon. Risotto will keep you on low iron levels for weeks, unable to move or do much of anything without his help. All the while he’d remind you this is the fate you get for breaking his trust. Who knows if he’d ever let you get back to a normal life again.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto, perhaps unexpectedly, is going to be furious. Still waters run deep, and Prosciutto is actually quite sensitive, so you cheating on him would genuinely upset him. But he doesn’t want anyone to realise that, so he’s going to mask any hurt with feelings that are easier to deal with, like anger.

Maybe you won’t even realise Prosciutto’s caught you until your partner suddenly turns old and wrinkly before your very eyes. Too angry to draw it out, Prosciutto’s going to finish them off right then and there.

He’ll try to resist the urge to get violent with you, too, though it won’t be easy for him. He might still end up grabbing you and shaking you around, demanding answers.

He won’t believe any excuses or reassurances that you still love him. Depending on your relationship up until that point, he might just walk away from you and you’ll never see him again. He’s not the type to bother with revenge over something like this. He simply wouldn’t invest any more time in someone who’d do this to him.

Alternatively, if we’re going with a Yan!Pro route, he might choose to keep you around, but he’ll make sure you’re kept on a tight leash from now on. Literally. Embarrassed? Too bad, you shouldn’t have pissed him off.

Prosciutto’s a fixer by nature, so if he does stay with you, expect regular lessons and reminders from him on how you should act. He’ll iron those disloyal tendencies right out of you, however long it takes.

I don’t think he’d bother aging you to weaken you, because he’s confident in his ability to overpower you any time he needs to. He’d only do it if you resisted a lot. Otherwise, prepare yourself for having to follow him around like a collared puppy from now on.

Pesci

Pesci would be heartbroken. He might even tear up at the sight of you with someone else. However, he’d get a hold of himself quickly, and resolve to fix the situation.

Not prone to immediate violence, Pesci might choose intimidation instead. He’ll hover over you and glare menacingly at your partner, threatening them to piss off and never touch you again, or else. If your partner has half a brain cell, they’ll be wise to heed his words. Pesci might need a lot of shoving to actually get violent, but this time he means what he says, and your partner will pay a high price if they ever dare show their face around you again.

Once you two are alone, Pesci will shift between high upset and indecision on what he should do with you. His self-confidence is already lacking, and now you’ve gone and given him further reason to doubt himself. He thought you two had something special!

He won’t fully believe you if you try to reassure him of your feelings for him, but he’s willing to forgive you just this once. You’ll have to reassure him even more though that you still love him for him to ever believe you again.

From now on, Pesci is going to stick as close to you as possible. If at any point you two have to separate, he’ll try to keep you within Beach Boy’s range, and use it to tell him exactly where you are and how many people you’re with. If he’s suspicious about anything, expect to be forcibly dragged back right to his side.

Illuso

The thing is, you wouldn’t have been able to keep a second relationship going under Illuso’s radar for any length of time. Spying is one of his specialities, and hell knows he’s going to be keeping tabs on his darling. The moment you try to step out of line, he’s going to know about it, and he will not be happy.

He’ll wait until you happen to glance away from your partner, and then drag them into the mirror world. Instead of questioning you like some of the others, he might try to question your partner instead, and then mock them for thinking they’d be allowed to lay a hand on his love. When he’s done gloating about how you belong to him, he’s going to finally finish them off, and then go after you.

You two are definitely going to have a cat fight about this. Illuso is prideful, and he’s going to be really annoyed with you for even thinking of choosing someone else over him. It’s honestly in your favour that long-term cheating was never possible, because he’d react much worse to something like that.

Illuso would probably decide it’s not worth risking you getting any ideas again, so he’ll just throw you into the mirror world and he won’t let you back out for a long time. Have fun getting used to your new life in the desolate realm of reflections! But don’t worry, Illuso won’t let you get too lonely, he’ll pay you plenty of visits. That counts for something, right?

As a side note, he’s absolutely petty enough to want to cheat on you right back. He wouldn’t take it too far, since you’re still his priority, but he might openly flirt with other people or touch them a little too personally, just to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Formaggio

His initial reaction would be shock. He just wouldn’t be able to believe that his darling would ever actually cheat on him. It’d probably take him the longest to recover out of everyone else.

When he does, he’ll just charge your partner. No Stands, nothing fancy, nothing calculated. He’ll just want to pummel the life out of them with his own two fists.

He’ll let you drag him off them eventually, but only after he’s sufficiently satisfied with the amount of blood seeping from their now unmoving form.

If this happened anywhere in public, Formaggio doesn’t give a shit. He’ll make a scene. He’ll yell questions at you along the lines of, “Babe, what the fuck?!”

He’ll stop after you try to shush him or stutter out some excuse, but he won’t really listen. He’ll grab your hand and take you back to the headquarters, muttering swear words under his nose the entire time.

Once home, he’ll yell at you again, pacing around the room and trying to come to terms with what you did. When he finally does accept it though, he’s surprisingly willing to forgive you. Mainly because regardless of what you might say, he’s convinced you cheating was just a one time thing, borderline an accident really, there’s no way you’ve actually lost interest in him.

Don’t expect him to let you off the hook that easily though. To be safe, he’ll make you tiny and maybe keep you in a glass jar as his literal pet for a good while. And he won’t release you until you can really convince him you won’t pull that shit again.

Ghiaccio

You might think he’d blow up once he sees you with someone else, but that is not the case. He openly approaches you two, stands next to you, puts his hand on your partner’s shoulder, and quietly tells them to fuck off. Then he instantly freezes them to death.

It’s not that he’s not angry with you, he’s just so angry it goes beyond his usual fits. He’ll take you back to the headquarters without a word, confronting you once the two of you are alone. You’ll be surprised to hear how level his voice is when he asks you why you cheated on him.

Whatever you say might finally set him off, especially if you stumble over your words or say something that would normally annoy him.

He might scream and thrash the place, attacking whatever is in sight. He won’t lay a finger on you, though.

He might actually cry from the sheer mix of anger and hurt. If you try to comfort him, he’ll accept it, even letting you hug him if you choose to. However, he’ll hold onto you painfully tight, and will swear he’ll freeze your feet to the ground and never let you leave if you ever break his trust again.

Needless to say, it’s going to be very difficult to earn his forgiveness. Any time you try to do something on your own, it’ll be like a trigger going off, and he’ll furiously recall what you did the last time he let you out of his sight. He won’t be making that mistake a second time.

Melone

Melone’s going to be sorely disappointed, but he’s going to put this opportunity to use.

He’ll slink up to the two of you and wrap his arms around you and your partner, asking sleazily if he can join in. He’ll stick his tongue out and generally try to scare your partner off by acting overly creepy and sexual. If they question who the hell he is, he’ll say, “I’m their boyfriend, obviously! Do you want a piece of me, too? (wink face)”.

Hopefully your partner is going to be sufficiently weirded out and leave, but if not, Melone’s going to go as far as he needs to in order to get rid of them. If things have to escalate to actual threats and violence, so be it.

As soon as your partner’s gone, Melone drops the act and gives you a look. Really? You’re so unsatisfied you’d actually resort to cheating on him? Come on. He adores you! He tries so hard for you! This won’t do.

Listen. You’re going to get locked in his fucking basement dungeon and you know it. He’s probably pretty willing to forgive you, but you still have to make it up to him somehow. Keeping you locked up for a while is just a matter of principle.

Afterwards, he might even be open to the idea of looking for a ‘perfect match’ to join the both of you, someone who can satisfy whatever you feel he’s lacking in the relationship. Melone would probably like to learn from them how to keep you happy, and might eventually dispose of them once he’s certain he’s got you fully worked out. Congratulations, you basically got your boyfriend to level up for you by cheating on him. Happy end?

Sorbet & Gelato

Maybe you misunderstood. Just because you guys are in a poly relationship doesn’t mean you can just go around sleeping with whoever you want! You need to talk about these things, dear.

Honestly, this could go one of two ways. If the three of you were simply dating, I don’t think either of them would be especially hurt. Their primary concern will always be each other, and while they like you enough to keep around, they won’t really lose their minds over something like this.

Rather than jealousy, what would bother them (and especially Sorbet) would be the lack of respect. You really think you can just go around doing something like that and get away with it? Who do you think you are? Who do you think they are, to presume they’d let something like this slide?

You’ll be punished, but they might turn this into something fun for them. The punishment probably won’t be too extreme, just something to teach you a lesson, and Sorbet will take the reins on carrying it out. Gelato might enjoy sitting back and watching the show, and maybe, if you prove you’re very sorry for what you did, he might even comfort you afterwards.

Now, if we’re talking about a context where both of them are yandere for you, things might take on a different tone. It’s not just about the disrespect any more. This time it’s personal.

Both of them will participate in punishing you, and it will not be funny or sexy or cute. The three of you are going to disappear for days while everyone wonders where the hell you are.

You might just end up with a broken sanity after they’re through with you, but you’ll definitely have a broken body and especially a pair of broken legs to deal with. The bad kind of broken too, bones shattered and fractures deep. You won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

Needless to say, in either case, whoever you cheated with is going to disappear. It’s in your best interest not to ask what happened to them. 

[kk095]

Happy Hour

I felt a bit creative tonight, so here's what I came up with. The story may need some additional tweaking, so bear with me a bit! I hope everyone likes it and feedback/constructive criticism is appreciated 🙂

*****

Most people like to go to the bar every now and then to have a few drinks to unwind a bit after a long day at work. However, some people lack control over their drinking and take things a bit too far. Their lack of control in this case resulted in the death of our latest patient.

The patient's name was Danielle “Dani” Mitchell. She was a bartender at a local neighborhood bar who was 28 years, had pin straight blonde hair just past her shoulders, beautiful hazel eyes, a near perfect suntan, was 5’6 and average build with perky, natural breasts, had a bright, colorful tattoo sleeve on her left arm, and had an engaging, jovial personality, but was a bit rough around the edges at times due to the nature of her job.

Things started off pretty mundane for Dani that evening. She was making drinks and chatting up some of the bar's regulars about the day's events. About an hour into her shift, a new customer came in. He was a tall, bald, muscular white man in his mid 30s with a scorpion tattoo on her right upper arm. He ordered a lot to drink in a short time. He was a nasty drunk with a bellicose demeanor, causing trouble amongst the other bar patrons. The man sitting next to him started to grow a bit frustrated. “You can't just come in here and start shit with us!” he exclaimed. “so what're you gonna do about it?!” the new customer said in response, challenging the man's assertiveness. The scene became more and more tense by the second until the 2 grown men started shoving each other. Dani hurried around the other side of the bar, trying to get to the men before serious blows were delivered. This wasn't Dani’s first bar fight under her watch, but little did she know, it would be her last. While trying to break up the skirmish, the new customer pulled out a pocket knife and attempted to stab his opponent. However, Dani was the recipient of the knife's blade since she got in between the men, attempting to break up their drunken quarrel.

Dani felt something touch her back, just to the right of her left shoulderblade. It was hard tap with a bit of pressure. She initially thought it was from one of the men throwing a punch, but quickly realized the severity of the situation once she turned her head. She saw the new customer who started the disagreement with their right arm extended, holding a pocket knife with a bloody tip. He had a look of horrified bewilderment on his face, realizing he had made a life-changing mistake. Dani realized the back side of her dark grey tank top was beginning to become soaked in her own blood.

One of the other bartenders called 911 right away. Dani reached for her back with her left hand. She felt warm wetness and drew her hand back quickly. The palms and fingers of her left hand were saturated in a significant accumulation of blood. Dani began breathing heavily, becoming panicked by the shocking turn of events. The man with the knife quickly sprinted out of the bar without paying his tab; but a tip was the least of Dani's concerns at this point. One of Dani's coworkers dashed over to her with a large clump of paper towels, attempting to plug up the gaping wound in her upper left back with them. The paper towels did very little to stop the surge of blood that emerged from Dani's back.

Dani began to feel dizzy and cold within the first few minutes of her injury. She shivered a bit while her coworker continued applying pressure to the knife wound. A small crowd began to gather around Dani and her coworker, with a few additional 911 calls being made from customers attempting to expedite the first responders’ arrival.

Her symptoms worsened shortly before EMS arrived. Dani had trouble remaining conscious, sitting in a moderate sized pool of her own blood. Dani peed herself (a sign of severe shock and rapid blood loss), sickening some of the members of the small, but nosey crowd around her.

Despite a slight delay, emergency personnel appeared on scene. The police officers dispersed the small crowd to give the medics room to work. When EMS got to Dani, she was in and out of consciousness, sitting on the floor up against the bar counter in a small puddle of her own blood. The paramedics removed Dani's top, exposing her black bra and tan body, with a belly button piercing. Dani was tachypneic and barely conscious. One of the medics leaned her forward, identifying a 2.6cm stab wound in the interscapular space, but missing the spine and slightly closer to the left side of the back.

Based on the amount of blood loss, the medics were able to deduce that Dani had a major hemorrhage actively wreaking havoc. “let's get 2 large bore IVs set up. Get me a bag of lactate and 1 of codeine” ordered the lead paramedic, who was searching for a vein in Dani's left arm. After getting both IVs set up (1 in each arm), a bag of ringer's lactate was hung to initiate fluid resuscitation, and a single dose of codeine was given to help with pain management since Dani lingered in a semi-conscious state. “she tore something major in there. We gotta get her out of here. Tell the ER our ETA is 5 minutes.” Stated the other paramedic. Dani was placed on a stretcher, partially sat up, and hastily wheeled out of the bar, into the ambulance which sat in the parking lot nearby.

Once in the ambulance, the paramedics set up the bartender on a portable heart monitor. Dani's vital signs were: BP: 87/60, heart rate: 119 bpm, pulse ox: 94%. An oxygen mask was placed on the patient to help ameliorate some of her respiratory symptoms, but her eyes rolled backwards every few seconds. Dani was breathing rapidly, but each breath was shallow and inefficient. “the knife might've nicked her left lung. Should we do a needle decompression?” asked the younger medic to the lead medic. The lead medic placed their stethoscope up against the front side of Dani's chest. They heard distant, raspy breath sounds on the left side, triggering immediate concern. “diminished breath sounds on the left. Good call!” said the medic in praise of the young medic's observation. “let's do a needle decompression” ordered the lead paramedic after a brief pause.

A 14 gauge lancet was procured by one of the medics as the ambulance sped towards the ER. Dani was lowered to a supine position on the stretcher and the 2nd medic poked their bony fingers along Dani's upper left chest, trying to locate the 2nd intercostal space. After the position was accurately located, the area was sterilized and the thick beveled lancet was quickly placed into Dani's 2nd intercostal space. A popping, hissing sound was heard when the needle reached the correct depth. Air rushed out of the hull of the lancet and Dani groaned, feeling a pressurized pinching sensation in her chest. Dani's pulse ox increased a bit after the needle decompression, but her blood pressure and heart rate remained unstable, suggesting she sustained more than a collapsed lung.

Dani remained hemodynamically unstable for the rest of the ambulance ride, but remained semi-conscious with a pulse. She groaned and mumbled every 30 seconds or so. Even though she wasn't saying anything audible while mumbling, the medics knew Dani was trying to beg them to save her life. Dani knew she was in grave danger, and was well aware she was walking a fine line between life and death.

Upon arrival at the ER, Dani's condition worsened slightly. Her blood pressure lowered a bit and her heart rate went into the 120s. Dani's eyes rolled retrally in her head, while hectically trying to remain awake. The medics updated the trauma team while pushing the gurney through the ERs main corridors into the allocated trauma bay.

Dani was lifted onto the table once she was in the trauma room. The nurses removed her jeans, shoes, socks, and the rest of her clothes, stripping the 28 year old completely nude in a room full of strangers. The blanket that was on top of the medic's gurney now laid on the floor of the ER, soaked in dark, warm blood, fresh from Dani's stab wound. The massive transfusion protocol was started, giving Dani 4 units of B-positive blood since that's all they had due to a national shortage of donated blood, 1500 units of Rhogam, 2 units of platelets, and 2 units of FFP.

Shortly after arrival, Dani went unconscious. At that point, the trauma team decided to intubate her in order to keep her airway intact. A 7.5 ET tube was placed into her airway and held in place with a blue tube holder, with a light blue ambu bag being attached after the procedure. Her oxygen saturation was only at 95% despite the needle decompression and the intubation, so a chest x ray and echocardiogram were ordered. The chest x ray showed a collapsed lung and possible pulmonary laceration on the left side. The echocardiogram showed cardiac tamponade, which surprised the trauma team. Based on the chest x ray, it appeared the lining of the left lung was lacerated by the knife. Because of that, friction increased during respiration, causing a pinching, burning sensation during breathing. Air leaked from the left lung and became trapped in the torn segment of Dani's left lung, and began seeping into her chest cavity. The needle decompression was simply a band-aid for this type of injury, so a left sided chest tube was ordered by the attending physician.

The chest tube was placed by the trauma team, aspirating a significant volume of air from her chest cavity. Her pulse ox increased a bit, becoming borderline normal, but she still remained hemodynamically unstable due to cardiac tamponade. The likely culprit was the knife penetrating the posterior aspect of Dani's heart.

Since cardiac tamponade was still a present issue, the trauma team made an unconventional move. They decided to perform a percutaneous balloon pericardiotomy in the emergency department. This is a procedure typically reserved for the operating room or interventional radiology suite to alleviate excess fluid in the sac around the heart. The procedure involves the placement of a needle into the chest wall, and into the lining of the heart. Once the needle is in place, a catheter with a small inflatable device (balloon) is navigated through the body of the needle, into the bevel, and into the lining of the heart. Repeated inflation of the balloon causes blood/fluid to drain into the catheter, removing the blood from the pericardium and improving cardiovascular function under ideal circumstances.

The procedure drained significant amounts of thick, coagulated blood. The first attempt didn't improve cardiac function; the echocardiogram still showed tamponade. The 2nd go-around withdrew fresh, dark colored blood. This dark, fresh blood began leaking out of the catheter, becoming deposited all over Dani's bare chest. The bleeding was profuse, which was a sign of a major hemorrhage. “get me a thoracotomy tray. We have to get to the bottom of this” ordered the attending ER physician.

Betadine was splashed all over Dani's chest in preparation of the procedure while the procedure's equipment was withdrawn. The doctor decided to access Dani's chest via a left anterolateral thoracotomy. A large cut was made in her anterior chest wall starting just millimeters to the left of her sternum, extending across the left side of her chest just under her perky left breast, and ending near the left armpit. In the following minute or so, Dani's chest was cracked open.

Her heart could be seen beating at a hurried pace. Luckily, no air or blood rushed out of Dani's chest upon entering it. A clamp was placed on the hilum of the left lung since there was sufficient evidence of a pulmonary laceration. Once the clamp was placed, the pericardium was incised so the tamponade could be released.

The line of sight became flooded with copious amounts of blood after the pericardium was incised. Suction was applied to the area, but blood began leaking out of Dani's chest cavity, situating itself on her bare chest, the table, and the floor below. A drain was placed in the pericardium, but it did little to better the situation. A 2nd chest tube was placed since the bleed was significant.

Blood shot out of the tube, spattering on the gown of one of the trauma doctors and onto the floor below. The heart monitors began chirping since Dani's cardiac function decreased rapidly from the hemorrhage. The trauma team knew there was a bleed in the back of Dani's heart, but the exact spot remained a mystery to them.

During the initial search for the mystery wound, Dani became pulseless, going into V-Fib. Her heart spasmed and trembled inside her now exposed chest cavity. One of the residents wrapped their hands around the fidgeting organ and began manually pumping it, almost as if they were demonstrating to the heart how to do its own job. Epinephrine and atropine were pushed into Dani's IV to stimulate positive cardiac activity. In the meantime, the internal defibrillator paddles were called for. The large, circular, spoon shaped paddles were charged to 20j and placed around each side of Dani's heart. In a moment's notice, everyone backed away from the table in anticipation of the impending shock.

A dull, wet thump was heard as the dose of electricity was sent directly into Dani's twitching heart. The shock failed to restore a normal rhythm, so internal massage was resumed and the internal paddles were recharged to 30j. A high pitched, electrical hum was heard while the internal paddles were being charged. A wet, clumpy sound was audible during this cycle of internal compressions.

Seconds later, the internal paddles were placed back into the blonde's chest and shock #2 was delivered. Dani's feet twitched and kicked around a bit from the increased strength of the shock, showing off a few thick, meaty wrinkles in the soles of her feet.

The 2nd shock didn't convert Dani to sinus rhythm, so the code ensued. A vascular clamp was placed on her aorta near the diaphragm to redirect additional bloodflow back to the heart in an attempt to keep the atria and ventricles filled. The blood soaked internal paddles were recharged to 30j and placed back into the bartender’s chest, delivering the 3rd shock. A dull, wet thunk was heard as her torso flopped abruptly on the trauma room table. Shock #3 sent Dani into PEA, so internal massage continued.

A second dose of epi and atropine were given, and the first dose of sodium bicarbonate was pushed after a short while of no improvement. The trauma team vigorously massaged Dani's weakly fidgeting heart, but it took yet another round of drugs and 4 and a half minutes worth of internal compressions to get her back to V-Fib.

Finally, the paddles were charged to 30j and the 4th shock of the code was promptly delivered. Dani's cold, limp body jolted on the table, but she remained in dire condition upon returning to her previous position. V-Fib still raced across the EKG screen, so the internal paddles were requested for the 5th time in this code. The internal paddles delivered a quick, controlled dose of electricity back into Dani's heart. The dying organ wobbled and shuddered for a few seconds before coming to a complete stop, appearing as if someone hit a metaphysical pause button, drawing her heart to a cadence. The trauma team frantically resumed internal compressions and continued the search for the unknown wound in the back of her heart.

Dani's heart sat stagnant and motionless as it was manually pumped to no avail by the ER team. The trauma team gave her 1 more dose of drugs and continued massaging her eerily still heart for another 5 minutes. The trauma team's efforts failed to produce cardiac activity, so the code was terminated, with time of death being called at 7:03pm after a prolonged battle to save the young bartender’s life.

The ambu bag was detached and the flatlined monitors were turned off. The nurses removed equipment from Dani's lifeless body while her heart sat completely still inside her exposed chest cavity. Once the nurses completed their job, a cover was placed over Dani's body and a toe tag was placed on the big toe of Dani's left foot.

Dani's autopsy revealed that she died from a laceration to the coronary sinus. The coronary sinus is a large vein present in the posterior portion of the heart of all primates, and is responsible for draining oxygen-poor blood in the myocardium. Injuries to this vascular structure are uncommon, but are lethal, causing death in a vast majority of patients, especially when combined with other injuries.

[hillywooddestiel]

The Road to Recovery

Characters: Sam x reader, Dean

Warnings: fluff, little angst, injury, Sam being a lil awkward muffin

Word count: 2.1k

@ohmyjack asked:

I was wondering if you could make a sam request where the reader is hurt and sam is taking care of them and he keeps being there as she slowly heals from a shot wound during a hunt. As they spend more time together then they end up admittint their feelings for one another. Maybe some cute fluff or a kiss

A/N: Hello! I guess I’ve been neglecting spn of late so this took dune time to get into. At first I hated it but then I finally finished it and you know what, I actually quite like it so I hope you all do to. Sorry about being a little MIA but exams and stuff ya know? xx Masterlist

Story:

Your entire torso feels like it’s on fire, burning from the inside out with the majority of the pain coming from your left hand side. You groan audibly as you open your eyes, feeling the urge to throw up.

“Hey hey hey, no. You need to rest.” Sam runs over to the bed, gently holding you down to the bed by your shoulder.

“What happened?” Your mouth is dry but Sam is on it, holding a straw to your mouth. It’s a strange feeling, drinking whilst lying down but you’re mostly just thankful for the much needed hydration.

“To put it simply, you got shot and also hit your head. One of the vamps had a gun and jumped out at you. There was nothing anyone could have done to stop it. You didn’t lose too much blood and we got the bullet out but you have a pretty nasty shot wound and probably a concussion.” You appreciate his honesty: you don’t care for cushioning the blow of bad information, it only makes the truth so much harder to hear.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” You gasp, wincing as a wave of pain sparks through your body.

“Dean had to go, got another case with Jody, but he left the car. I thought I’d let you rest up for a few days then we could go to the bunker.” You can’t see him exactly, being stuck on your back, but his tone is comforting.

Day one and two are a major struggle. Sam brings you soup and spoon feeds you like a child, propping your head up on several solid pillows. You smile awkwardly at each other, quickly running out of things to talk about. It’s kind of odd but, you’ve never actually spent that much time with Sam alone. There’s been the odd hunt here and there with Dean, the three of you working together. He seems like he wants to talk, opening his mouth ever so slightly, he just never finds the words.

Day three, Sam helps you to the Impala. He looks to you for permission before lifting your shirt to check the stitches are still intact, the both of you blushing furiously. The drive is long and you nod off more than once.

“Y/N… Y/N… you awake?”

“What?!” You jolt awake, a side effect of hunting, growling in discomfort at the pain caused by sudden movement.

“Careful! Sorry, I shouldn’t have woke you up. We’ve arrived though, at the bunker.”

“Great!” I smile. Sam doesn’t respond, he just stares at me for a good while like the adorably awkward nerd that he is. “Should we maybe go inside?”

“Right, yeah… sorry…” Sam hurries out of the car, opening your door before you can even reach for the handle and helping you into the war room. He lowers you onto the couch, muttering apologies every time you let out a gasp or wince. He’s been very attentive, looking after you, and you’re very grateful for it. Who’s to say what would have happened to you if you’d been hunting solo? Also, you highly doubt Dean would be such a good nurse.

Sam gives you one of the many spare rooms, closer to his own so that he can keep a close eye on you, finding an old wheelchair in the storerooms for you to use. It’s a little wobbly and one of the wheels keeps squeaking but it’ll do the job. It’s when the lights go out that things take a sour turn.

It’s late. Sam has long since gone to bed, satisfied that you’re sound asleep and okay. Your skin is coated in a film of sweat and your muscles won’t stop spasming but you aren’t awake. Instead, you’re mind keeps showing you twisted images: the people you couldn’t save, their horrid deaths on repeat, their blood running across the floor. Sam comes running into your room, summoned by the pained sounds he hears, in his pajamas with his hair all tousled. A quick check of your forehead temperature with the back of his hand indicates a high fever. A little panicked, he peels back your t-shirt and uncovers your wound, bracing himself for the worst. It’s gone a strange, almost black colour and veins around it run darker- you’ve got an infection. He doesn’t want to leave, for fear of your condition getting worse, but he has to; he needs to get some antibiotics and quickly.

Fumbling with the needle, Sam manages to pierce the bottle and fill the syringe with penicillin.

“Sam…” you groan breathily, grabbing a hold of the bed sheets.

“I’m here. You’ll feel better in a second, just breathe for me.” He tries to calm you in your partially conscious state. Meanwhile, he is busy searching for a good vein on your arm to inject you with the one thing that will really help right now. Upon finding one, he wastes no time in inserting the needle and injecting the fluid. The effect isn’t immediate. It takes a long while and a little praying from Sam before you start to calm down. Sam sighs with relief when your regular breathing pattern returns, unaware that he is now holding tightly onto your hand.

You wake up slowly, your brain muddled with sleep and nausea. The room is cool, the air conditioning on full blast making goosebumps rise on your skin. It’s quite chilly actually. Except for one hand. One of your hands is oddly very warm. Your eyes take a moment to adjust but the sight before you is not what you were expecting. Sam is snoring, his head resting on his arm and one hand clutching onto yours. You don’t want to wake him up so you decide to choose your eyes again and get a few more hours of sleep.

“Morning!” You greet Sam brightly, wheeling into the kitchen down the makeshift ramp made of two planks.

“Good morning! You feeling better? You kind of scared me last night.” He cuts up strawberries on the chopping board, not looking at you.

“I did? What happened?”

“You had a fever and I had to give you penicillin. I think you should be fine now…” Sam confesses, pushing a plate of fruit over to you- the food is always healthy when Sam is in charge.

“Oh… well thank you, for saving me. And for looking after me, I don’t mean to be a bother.” You poke at your breakfast with a fork, mushing up the banana slices.

“You could never be a bother Y/N…”

“Um… thanks…” you smile shyly, cheeks flushing. “… I think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“No! No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” You answer too quickly at first but recover quickly. Sam notably flinches a little, failing to hide it with a fake cough. It wasn’t your intention to scare him but the situation is getting a little strange.

By the end of the second week, you’re back on your feet. You find yourself grabbing a hold of whatever is nearest to help you along, sometimes that ends up being Sam, but you’re more or less recovered. Despite the rocky start, you and Sam have actually grown closer. He’s funny, incredibly smart, loves to goof around (much to your surprise) and he’s very attentive when caring for you even though you are nearly back to full health. Hunting will definitely be off the table for maybe another month or so- just to be safe- but you can’t wait to get back to driving out on the open road again. It’s been fun, having the stability of returning to the same bed every night and someone to talk to. The company is what you think you’ll miss the most. Hunting can be the most lonely job in the world, up against the hidden horrors from literal hell all alone. Sam would make a really good partner- in more ways than one.

Also, at the end of the second week, Dean returns from his hunts with Jody. He pulls you into a bear hug immediately, happy to see you back on your feet and feeling much better. Sam makes a fuss at first, warning him to be careful of your injuries, but Dean just waves him off saying you can handle yourself.

“Chill out Sammy, I know you love to play nurse but Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need you fussing.”

“Dean!” Sam groans at his brother’s mockery while you just laugh.

“Did he get his special thermometer out?”

“He did, yeah.” you admit, not wanting to torment Sam further even though it is funny to see him squirm.

“Dean!”

“Alright alright! It’s good to see you both.”

“It’s good to see you too Dean.” You hug again, unaware of Sam shooting daggers at his brother.

“Hey, can we talk?” Sam pokes his head around your door late at night, startling you a little.

“Yeah of course. Is everything alright?” Sam comes in and sits beside you on your bed before speaking.

“You’re pretty much healed now, right?”

“Yes…” you respond unsure. He’s trying to gently kick you out, you can tell.

“I… We… Dean and I already have another case and… well, since you’re feeling better I thought-”

“You thought it’s time for me to go. It’s fine Sam, you don’t have to wrap everything in bubble wrap.” You finish the sentence for him. And even though you kept telling yourself that it was going to happen, you can’t help but sound bitter about the whole situation. “Thank you for looking after me and saving my life. I’ll get my things and be out by morning.” You move to get up but he grabs your arm quickly.

“That's not what I was gonna ask at all. I want you to come with us.” He reveals, skimming the pad of his thumb over your clenched hands.

“Wait what?”

“You're a good hunter, I want you to come with me- us.” Sam saves himself, but not fast enough for you not to notice.

“Oh… Well I guess it would be good to get back out there. I won’t be able to do much though.” You ponder, hand ghosting your injury.

“I get that. I would never put you in harms way Y/N if you weren’t ready. But, you’ve been down here for a long time and it would be good for you to get out for a while. You can still work a laptop.” Sam reasons. You remain quiet for a moment, weighing up your options. You could stay and be bored, binge watching ANTM and eating pizza. Or, you could join Sam and Dean on this hunt and help them. Plus spending some more time with Sam wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Sam pulls you into an unexpected hug, wrapping his arms around your whole body. At first, you’re a little too shocked to do anything but his warmth relaxes you and you find yourself hugging back. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you can smell him with each inhalation. His cologne is musky with a hint of vanilla. It mixes with his conditioner, minty and like tea tree, to make the scent that is Sam Winchester. You can feel him holding on tightly and breathing in your own perfume. He finally starts to release you from his hold, the two of you backing away slowly from each other until you’re looking into his hazel eyes. Something primal takes over within you, and within Sam. You launch forwards, crashing your lips into his with such passion that you surprise even yourself. Sam responds equally as passionately, his hand getting lost in your hair while the other supports your lower back, almost pulling you into his lap. You wrap your own arms around the base of his neck and angle your head more to the side to get even closer if that’s possible. The two of you only break away to come up for air.

“Woah…” Sam gasps, his breathing laboured.

“Well that was... “

“Surprising.” He laughs, still yet to catch his breath back.

“Yeah!” You laugh breathily, “About time though.”

“Yeah!”

“I suppose now would be a good time to admit that I might like you. A lot.” You look to his face shyly, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well that’s a relief to know it’s not one sided. I like you too Y/N.” He smiles in the most adorable way, eyes not leaving your lips. This time it’s Sam who leans in first, gently this time, and kisses you softly and slowly like all there is left in the world is you and him. Well, you, him and Dean catching a glimpse of the two of you and rolling his eyes so hard they almost get stuck. Took you two long enough!

[leahtate1228]

My First Admission

The date was January, 2007, I was in the seventh grade. I was on my way to my regular doctor appointment at Children’s Hospital Boston to check up on my Cystic Fibrosis, make sure all my medications were working and everything was under control. I take one standard breathing test every time I’m there which pretty much tests everything they need to know, plus a blood test. Although this time was different from all my rest.

My doctor had been out that day so I had to see someone else. After taking the test, the doctor came back in with the results; bad news coming. My test results had dropped a huge percent, and I needed to be admitted to the hospital as soon as possible for treatments.

That appointment was on a Monday and on that Thursday I was driving through the Thomas J O’Neill tunnel that opens up into Boston. With too many thoughts, feelings and emotions running through my head. I was contemplating the future, near and far, the possibilities versus the probabilities, the questions and answers I did not know I would be facing for the next four weeks. The scariest thought about this whole experience is that little did I know, when I turned around to walk through that rotating door leading into the Hospital, it would be the last time I would see a clear blue sky with no small window in between us in a long time.

With my parents on both sides of me I entered the door. Once inside, seeing all the jumbling colors all over the walls and the pictures, so many colors. I suppose the colors were supposed to distract us, or give us a happy feeling. But for me, the jumble of way too many colors were just like my thoughts, running crazy through my mind, not making any sense. As soon as that split second of walking through the door was over there was a rush of people and we knew right where to go. The ninth floor. {Once taking what felt like almost ten minutes to ride the elevator up there, it was a whole different world!}

All the walls were white; there was no color, no pictures, no smiles, no fun. Then, we proceeded to walk over to the nurse’s desk to check in.

My parents said “Leah please."

"Yes right this way we have a room for you." the nurse replied.

We followed the nurse to a room down the hallway. So we were walking into the room and he said the doctor would be with us soon. This room was all white walls with a door. no pictures, no color, no smiles once again, no fun. So after waiting about 15 minutes 3 red sox players came in to sign autographs for me! They do this for the sick children, it was a lot of fun! I suppose it was a distraction of what no one knew what pain was going to come to me next.

I knew I had to expect the doctor to come in of course, but what I did not expect was the team of nurses that pooled in behind him [at least 4]. So now there were eight people tucked into this tiny room with no windows and very thin air with me lying on the bed almost crying, scared of the future.

The doctor began explaining some things about the procedure he had to do and how I must be awake for this to go right. So, as I lay there still as a pond in the summer time, he began taking a pen to my arm, drawing little lines and circles around my veins then he taped hot packs to both of my inner elbows and left the room for 20 minutes. I had to leave the packs on so he would be able to tell which vein was going to be the easiest to put the picc line in. They also gave me a pill that was meant to relax my body which ended up doing the exact opposite, and I ended up having a horrible reaction to it. A picc line is a long skinny tube than goes into your vein with one end reaching all the way up towards your heart. Mine was 44 centimeters long.

Once the doctor came back into the room the craziness began. The next thing I knew he had a tray and nurses holding my arms with gloves and masks on and I was doing all I could to look away! I was squeezing my dads’ hand as tightly as I possibly could because I was in the most pain I had ever been in, in my entire life! [and I was scared] I was getting a tube shoved up my arm in the opposite flow of my blood, with needles and rubber gloves pinching my skin. This whole procedure took about twenty five minutes. The only thing I truly remember is my mom telling me to just take a deep breath and it would all be over soon. [Also most all of the nurses had told me was coming out is so much easier than going in, which was a relief.] I had never gone through so much torture in my life, even though I knew it was going to help me get better.

Once that whole scene was over with, they had a room ready for me, so I went in and looked around at the small closet, window bench where my parents would switch off nights sleeping there and the hospital bed they wheeled me in that I would be in for the next month. The room had a bathroom with a shower, tv and small desk top for my school work. While most would think being in the hospital provides you with a lot of down time, which coincidentally is the exact opposite, barely leaving enough time to get a meal in. The next month went by very slowly, with doctors coming in every day doing what I call "the octopus" in the mornings where there were at least eight of them at once who come in and use their stethoscopes to listen to you, breathe in and out and deep breathe. Once they are done my nurse for the daytime would come in and take some tests and start me on my morning medicines and routines of my hospitalization. Once that was done I would eat, watch movies, sleep, do physical therapy, and get occasional visits from my nurse or some friends! Seeing friends is the best surprise of all! And then I do my night time medicine, possibly make a small dent in some of my school work I’ve been missing for almost three weeks, and once I fell asleep my whole day starts over again!

I try to resist the temptation of looking out the window either up at the sky or down below at the people walking to work and this feeling over whelms me thinking how I wish I could be at school [even on a Sunday]. I’m not even sure my mother knows this, but I felt trapped like a monkey in a cage at the zoo, or a criminal behind bars in jail. I was not allowed to leave my room, ever! Because one step outside into that infested hallway could make me stay in there longer. Once my stay was over the day they told me I was going to be released, a huge feeling of accomplishment rushed through my body! I was being set free! To see the sky, smell the air, taste that dirty Boston water. "A nurse will be in to take out your line soon." "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I couldn’t believe it! I was done! Finally!

Little did I know there was more to come.

Once the nurse came in to take out my line she was right! It was a lot easier to take out than to put in, that is, 42 centimeters of it. Then it got stuck. The last 2 centimeters! And what do you know?....I was back in pain! As the nurse was tugging and pulling at my arm, it felt like she was going to pull my vein right out of my arm! I was once again, squeezing my father’s hand; actually I began to bite it! I left teeth marks. After they tried as hard as they possibly could, with me laying on the bed for two hours, they finally decided to give up, telling me my veins were constricted and closing up right over the picc line. They sent in Loraine, a relaxation specialist. Within fifteen minutes of her being in my room, she was telling me to close my eyes playing soft music, and having me imagine and try to picture a door swinging open gently, or the wind blowing the veins open to let the line come out. I began to picture a flower blooming, opening its petals to show the beautiful flower in full bloom. The nurses re entered the room and I was breathing very calmly with that image in my mind and within the next five minutes my arm was free! No more picc line! I had an overwhelming feeling of happiness! I will never forget what had happened to me in these past few weeks.

As I walked out of my room going outside my mom told me to put on my sweatshirt because it was cold and rainy; I did as she said. But once we got outside to get the car from valet I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt the wind! I saw the sky! I smelled the air, felt the rain, saw the sun! I could not believe how long It had been since I had been outdoors! I immediately took off my sweatshirt and began to spin around and catch raindrops on my tongue and run wild through the parking lot! I felt amazing! My lungs felt stronger than ever I had done it!

I had faced me fear and beat it! I survived something someone my age should never have had to go through but I entered the battle and I had not been defeated, but was the winner! Of the biggest battle I have had to face in a long time. I face small battles every day, but this was no battle it was a war! Between fear and myself. And I could not believe...I won! I had conquered my fear and was ready to take on the world with whatever challenge it wanted to hand me next! I had a "bring it on" attitude. Now, I have been hospitalized again since then, but I was ready and if it ever comes again, I’ll tell my heart, and my brain, I’m prepared.

Peace. Love. Cure CF.