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To Get the Best Orthopedic Excellence Care in Ghaziabad Delhi NCR

A treasure trove of orthopedic care can be found in the Delhi NCR. This is where knowledge meets understanding and new ideas meet old wisdom. We could look around Ghaziabad and the nearby areas for the best medical care. A Struggle For Greatness To Find The Best Orthopedic Surgeon In Ghaziabad When working with these kinds of problems, it’s very important to find a qualified orthopedic doctor.…

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Dr. Kartik Patel is Top Best Hip Joint Replacement Surgeon Specialist in Knee Replacement, Hip Replacement Surgery in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, Total Hip Replacement,

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[orthopedicspecialist]

Orthopedic Hip Specialist in Hyderabad - Dr. Srinivas Kasha

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Location Details

Mon - Sat: 10:00 AM - 5:00 PM

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[muthuhos]

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Get ready for some angsty, but fun attempts at memory jogging. 😅

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some...mature talk lol. Angst and hurt/comfort, fluff, PTSD, protective Ben, tinge of spice~

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 3: “When You Hold Me”

Those first few days were the hardest ones.

Marie ran out of paid time off, which meant she had to go back to work. That left you alone with Ben during the day.

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, and glaring at you after you’d just pushed away the bowl of bland instant oatmeal he’d “made” for you.

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in the rumpled shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched. He saw the pain and tiredness written across your face though, and the way you were sitting hunched at the breakfast bar, arms crossed on the counter. He softened a little.

“Look, I get it,” he started to say.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped. Your eyes closed as the pain sharpened. You lifted your hands to either side of your temples. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

You huffed and dropped your hands flat on the counter in frustration. Your eyes opened, and you looked down at the various healing scars littering your arms. You knew there were a few more across your neck and chest, and even your thighs. No matter how you stood, sat, or laid, it was painful to move your body. Even your face still hurt, with the fracture and bruises.

“You’re not the one who looks like Edward Scissorhands had a party,” you said, gesturing at yourself as you glared up at Ben. Emotion began to rise in your throat. “Or for a reference you’ll actually understand, how about this: I’m the Bride of goddamn Frankenstein. A fucking patchwork quilt.”

Ben hardened again, even with the deep pit forming in his stomach.

“That’s enough—”

“And despite what little you, or my mom, Grace, Annie, or even the doctors have told me, I can’t even remember who did this to me or what the hell happened,” you said. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You wiped at them furiously and turned your face away.

“So no, the indestructible supe doesn’t understand. You literally can’t!” You pushed away from the counter and did your best not to lose your balance when a wave of vertigo hit you.

Ben started toward you, but you held up a hand against him.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” you muttered.

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever said that to him, but somehow, this one cut into him worse than the last.

Over the next several weeks, you did begin to heal from your injuries. Your doctor even noted that you were healing better than she expected. Bruises faded, wounds slowly became scars, some of their stitches removed, and with the right topical medication, a couple of them began to disappear.

The memories remained—at least for Ben. Finding you in that dark, disgusting place, breaking your chains, seeing how thoroughly that piece of shit had worked you over…

It still made him angry at times. He’d broken a couple of mugs, and one near-empty beer bottle. (You’d only caught him once, though he’d given you some bullshit excuse as to why.)

Your memory, on the other hand, still didn’t return.

And you weren’t an easy patient. That episode in the kitchen wasn’t the first, nor was it the last. Often the pain made you crabby and irritable, whenever your medication wore off. The head injury was also causing vast mood swings that Ben could barely keep up with.

It was all he could do to stop himself from snapping back at you at times (and sometimes he failed). He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers.

Marie was the only buffer. At least, when she was home. On more than one occasion, she’d had to try and diffuse the tension.

She was working during the day though, which of course, left you with Ben.

You were prone to headaches and dizziness, so he was careful with you, more than he’d ever been. You were starting to notice how he sometimes had to correct himself before he touched you, or forced himself to be deliberately slow when he helped you. 

Your mom had also been doting on you, laying out your clothes, brushing your hair, trying her best to cook for the three of you in the evening. Apparently, she’d been taking lessons, though she still couldn’t cook for shit. Ben often suggested takeout, since he was also no “Betty fucking Crocker,” in his own words.

Still, it was a foreign feeling to be taken care of. It often left you unbalanced, even after your vertigo settled, or your headaches eased.

You considered it while you and Ben were channel surfing together from opposite ends of the couch in the living room. Your mom had just given you a blanket to cover your shoulders, before she went off to water your potted plants on the balcony for you. It was a Saturday, so she had the day off work.

You watched her go with a measure of disbelief.

“Look at Mother Theresa go,” you remarked. “You’d think they replaced my mom with one of the Stepford Wives.”

Ben snorted, because he actually knew the movie you were talking about. You’d forced him to watch it with you a few months ago, mostly to tease him.

“She’s never babied me this much in my life,” you said. “Not even when I was still old enough to be babied.”

Instead of commiserating with you, Ben just sighed, shaking his head a little. He glanced away from the History Channel on the screen to shoot you a glance.

“Maybe you should cut your mom some fucking slack,” he said. “She’s doing a hell of a lot for you. Even more than I am.”

You raised a brow at him. While you had a feeling that wasn’t so easy for him to admit, something about his words annoyed you.

“You clearly don’t know her like I do,” you said.

Your childhood had been no picnic. While you didn’t necessarily blame your mom (anymore) for staying with your father when you were a kid, you had never truly been a child. Your self-imposed job had been to protect your sister’s childhood, and sometimes, your mother too.

Ben gave you a more direct look.

“I know plenty,” he said.

And in his eyes, you saw that he did know something. Perhaps too much. You gathered the throw blanket closer around your body and sank further into your side of the couch.

The last thing you wanted to talk about was your messed up childhood, let alone your father. You couldn’t even remember his death, though Marie told you that you had been there. And so had Ben.

You snuck a look at him while his attention had returned to the TV. He’d settled on Ice Road Truckers. You weren’t impressed.

“Ugh. Can we watch something else?” you asked. “Something funny maybe, like How I Met Your Mother?”

Ben shot you a look. “Sounds like a chick show.”

“Not true! It has universal appeal,” you argued. Slowly you raised yourself from your corner of the couch, grimacing just a bit as it disturbed the delicate equilibrium of your still-fractured skull. It was healing, but that, of course, would take the most time. Your headaches would turn into migraines if you weren’t careful.

Ben knew that full well as he watched you move towards him across the couch. He couldn’t help but reach out a hand to steady you by your arm. You gifted him with a smile and grabbed onto him.

“Please?” you implored.

Ben tried to remain unaffected, but that smile of yours was endearing. Plus, it wasn’t often that you willingly reached out to him, touched him.

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, turning off the TV with the remote. You gave him a curious look. He turned to you with a smile.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

Of course this man would have a Benz, you thought. The car was black and sleek with beige interior, and it was both comfortable and decked out with all the modern bells and whistles.

You wondered if he knew what half of these buttons did as you gazed across the dashboard, but the path of your eyes continued until you settled on the man himself. Ben was casually dressed in a burgundy sweater and dark brown slacks, a silver Rolex on his wrist. He had one hand casually on the wheel and the other resting in his lap.

Part of you itched to take his hand, but you decided against it. You could admit, if only to yourself, that you were warming up to him.

Maybe you even liked him.

You knew you didn’t always make it easy, but he had been as patient and gentle as he could be with you, for a man who clearly wasn’t used to being either for anyone.

Despite his gruff exterior, however, you knew he had to care about you to put up with all this. It made you more willing to trust him…and even more curious about him.

“What’s my favorite color?” you asked.

Ben gave you a furrowed look. “What?”

You crossed your arms over your blouse.

“We’ve supposedly been together for a year,” you reasoned. “You should know what my favorite color is.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Come on,” you nudged his arm, trying to get him to smile. You succeeded, just a little.

“I don’t know…blue,” he guessed. Your mouth fell open in shock.

“How do you not know my favorite color’s red?” you said. “That’s the most basic thing ever.”

“What are you, five years old? Who fucking cares?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I do!” you said. “Well, fine, Mr. Grump. When’s my birthday?”

With another shake of his head, he did correctly answer that question, at least.

“What’s my favorite food?” you asked.

“What’s with the goddamn quiz?” he retorted.

“I’m seeing how well you actually know me,” you countered. “Come on. Impress me.”

Ben slowed to a stop at a busy intersection. He’d been trying to jog your memory by passing certain landmarks he thought you might recognize, like the grocery store you two always shopped at, or the park where you liked to go for walks. So far, you seemed disinterested in the sights and more interested in grilling him.

Despite his longsuffering sigh, he had to wrack his brain in order to come up with something for you.

“The Beatles are your favorite band. Specifically the Abbey Road album,” he said. 

That didn’t exactly answer your earlier question, but…he wasn’t wrong. 

“Okay, you get a point there,” you said.

“And you fucking love Christmas,” he said, somehow with both annoyance and fondness. “Tacky as hell, with the…the ribbons, and the red flowers, and the jingle balls, and whatever the fuck else you can get your hands on. You love that shit. Because when you were a kid, that was the only time of the year your family got any peace.”

You were smiling at his description, but you sobered when he got to that last bit. Ben met your gaze. 

“I know that you’ve had three boyfriends before me,” he said. Then, a smirk grew across his face. “But I’m the only one who’s made you come. Every time. Like a goddamn faucet.”

You gaped as your face grew red with a hot blush. “Excuse me—”

“You claim to like getting taken from behind the best. And you do. You’re all too happy to get bent in half for me. Hair pulling, ass-slapping, the whole sticky nine yards,” he continued, with an even fonder gleam of memory in his eyes. His hands caressed the leather wheel of his car, long fingers flexing.

“But you actually like it better when you can see my face, watch me work. I don’t blame you,” he added, smiling. “I mean, if there was an Oscar for laying it the fuck down, I would’ve taken that shit year after year. Would’ve beat out Burt Reynolds by a fucking landslide.”

You thought you were about to combust, whether from indignation, or straight up embarrassment, you didn’t know. (And you were going to ignore the little tremble of heat between your legs.)

But just as you were about to blow your top, figuratively speaking, Ben’s expression became more serious when his gaze returned to you.

“I know that you’ve had to take care of yourself. And that you’ve been alone all your life,” he said. Then a slight pause, before his attention went back to the road. “That’s something you and I have in common.”

The light turned green. Your anger and embarrassment settled, somewhat, into contemplation. You didn’t know what to make of this man.

He was infuriating, with all kinds of audacity. He was crass, and at times, he grated on your very last nerve.

But somehow, he knew you. He seemed to know the parts of you that you didn’t even want to know.

Sensing your angry gaze on the side of his face, he turned to you with a devil-may-care grin.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m not dressed for this,” you said, leaning in close to whisper to him.

He’d taken you to a nice steakhouse for dinner, on the even more affluent side of town. You still couldn’t believe you’d moved out of New York City to Scarsdale, of all places.

Ben wrapped an arm around your waist and guided you closer, enough for you to feel his body heat.

“You’re just right,” he looked down on you with a teasing wink. It made you blush, despite yourself, with a small smile.

You went with him to a secluded booth in the back, by his request with the hostess. They seemed to know him, so maybe he was a regular. Or more likely, both of you were regulars. This place was only vaguely familiar, but when you saw the menu, you knew you were going to get the salmon.

Ben snorted when you said so.

“Yeah, that’s what you always get,” he said.

He smiled though—at the fact that this little outing was helping you make progress after all.

He didn’t need the menu either. He always ordered the dry-aged porterhouse steak. You couldn’t drink on the medication you were on, but he ordered a glass of bourbon for himself.

When the meal eventually came out, you glanced at his enormous plate with wide eyes. That had to be the biggest damn steak you’d ever seen, along with a huge loaded baked potato and a side of broccoli. You doubted the greens would do all that much for him, nutrition-wise. 

“Whoa. Did they cut up a stegosaurus back there?” you quipped.

Ben chuckled. He’d actually missed your sense of humor, no matter how dumb it was sometimes. He unwrapped the steak knife they gave him from his napkin and started to carve a big piece.

You raised your brows, but shifted your attention to your fish and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like melt-in-your-mouth good, and you weren’t sure fish was supposed to be “melty.” No wonder you two liked coming here.

But then, your thoughts were entirely derailed.

Hearing the sound of his knife hitting the plate, carving into the meat—it struck a discordant note in your mind. You looked over, and the sharp, silvery gleam of it caused a vision to flash across your eyes…

Of a blade sliding against your skin, over and over. Along with questions. The same questions being asked of you, over and over.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“Tell me!” a man demanded. “Give me something.”

He grabbed your face, squeezed your neck until you choked on blood and spit.

“Hey!” a more familiar voice cut through it all. “Come on, sweetheart. Answer me.”

You blinked and caught yourself mid-gasp, staring into the deep green of Ben’s eyes.

Your head was resting on his shoulder, his hand pressed to the side of your cheek, which stung slightly, as if he’d had to try and wake you. His arm was wrapped around your waist in the booth.

He was gentle in sliding your hair away from your face, but his own was hard and almost angry, as his brows were knitted together. His gaze then traveled across the room, and you realized that there were other people in the restaurant now watching you and Ben. Even the servers stopped what they were doing at the sound of his shout.

He gave them all a pointed glare.

“What? Nothing to fucking see here,” he snapped. Most of them were wise enough to turn away, back to their meals and conversation. Ben focused on you as you caught your breath. You were finally able to support yourself, though you stayed leaning on his shoulder. He wasn’t about to let you go either, until he got some answers.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. You frowned at his gruff tone, until you met his eyes. Somehow, you could see that there was worry there.

You glanced down, and you closed your eyes when you saw it. You pressed your face into his arm to steady yourself.

“The uh…the knife,” you whispered. “It made me see something…remember something.”

“What did you remember?” he asked quickly. You sucked in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

“Nothing good,” you whispered.

You felt him pause. You heard the shuffle of silverware, a thump on the table. Then his hand came up and cupped your cheek.

“It’s okay. I put it away,” he said.

Tears burned behind your eyelids, and you buried your face harder against his chest. At this point, it wasn’t just about seeing the knife. It was knowing that whatever had happened to you, it had truly been hell. Unlike anything you’d ever been through before.

“You want to go home?” came Ben’s voice, deep and steady in your ear.

You sniffed and nodded, as your tears seeped into the fabric of his sweater. He rubbed your back, holding you more securely.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, the episode at the restaurant led you to a migraine. Ben carried you to the master bedroom and laid you down, helped you undress down to your underwear, and gave you a shirt you liked to sleep in. He turned all the lights off and made sure the curtains were closed tight.

Marie brought you your pain medication with a glass of water. Ben hoped there was enough in your stomach that the pills wouldn’t make you nauseous as well, like they occasionally did.

After you took the meds, you curled up on the bed and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to whimper like a child. You’d dealt with pain before; that was nothing new. But this was getting ridiculous. 

Ben gave Marie a certain look. “I’ve got it from here.”

She gazed at you with sympathetic tears in her eyes, but she nodded and touched his arm.

“If you need anything, just call for me,” she whispered.

Ben nodded, but he closed the door behind her and began by taking off his watch, then his shoes, pants, and sweater. He changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

You were too busy hugging your pillow and pressing your face into it. You didn’t realize he was still with you until the bed dipped behind you.

Ben turned you around and gathered you into his arms. You inhaled sharply, but then you clung to him. His chest and middle were warm, a bit unnaturally so.

“You’re hot,” you muttered, splaying a hand against his chest. “Like a radiator.”

Ben quirked a smile. “Yeah, you tend to complain about that.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself closer to him. “Not today.”

He wiped the tears from your cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead. He held you that way for a while, just silence and the sound of your breathing covering the room. Eventually, the pain medication began to kick in, helping to ease your pounding skull.

You pulled back enough to see Ben’s face. He was still awake, but he opened his eyes and met yours in the dim light. You reached up and touched his bearded cheek, hesitantly.

“Why can’t I remember?” you asked, in a broken voice.

Ben’s brows furrowed. He curled his hand around yours and let out a breath.

“I don’t know,” he said, but all he wanted was for this to be over.

“I could take this from you,” he said. “What’s the big fucking deal about a blood transfusion?”

Your fingers stilled against his cheek. Your tearful eyes averted from his, but you weren’t as opposed to the idea as you were before.

“The last time, it healed me?” you asked.

“Within the hour,” he said. His hand tightened a fraction on yours. “It’ll be like it never happened. And your memories could even come back.”

You sighed, briefly closing your eyes. Your hand fell from his cheek, but you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” you said.

Ben’s frown remained, but at least it was a step in the right direction. He took your chin and slowly tilted your face up to his. You stared up at him with shining eyes. He didn’t like the pain he still saw there, but he did like the way you glanced down at his lips.

He took a chance, and he leaned down to meet you with a kiss. What first was a gentle touch, soon became heady as your hand slid up his arm and into his hair. He brought you flush against him and deepened the kiss, when his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. You welcomed him in with a surprised moan.

He hadn’t tasted you in so damn long, it was like indulging a craving he’d been denying himself. It was even harder to slow down and ease away from your lips.

You rested your forehead against his chest afterward.

“Wow,” you breathed. “Okay.”  

Ben chuckled. But unlike the movies, a kiss didn’t break the spell. You were his, but not completely. 

He wanted nothing more than to show you how much you could be…but your body was still weak. He would have to continue protecting you, even from himself. 

“I want to stay here tonight,” he said. 

Despite his earlier thoughts, he didn’t think he could take one more night of not being with you in this bed. He could control himself. He just wanted to make sure you were all right, and safe with him.

It took you a moment to decide, but you nodded. 

“You can stay,” you agreed, with a more teasing smile. “I don’t think your old man back can handle the couch anymore.”

He snorted in amusement. There was some more of your sense of humor peeking through. 

Meanwhile, you still weren’t totally convinced that him sleeping in the bed with you was a good idea. A good part of you craved his nearness, and how he made you feel safe…but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to continue being so vulnerable with him. 

Just when you were about to put some distance here between you and tell him to stay on his side, Ben rolled you back around so that your back was pressed to his chest. He slid a warm, strong arm around your waist. His lips pressed to your bare shoulder. The sleep shirt you wore (one of his old shirts) had ridden down your arm.

“Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

And you actually believed it.

You felt comfortable and secure in his embrace. Soon enough, you relaxed into him.

Sleep wasn’t easy, but you got there in time. It even lasted for a while.

Just not long enough.

In your dreams, there were flashes of things that didn’t make sense. They were jumbled together like white noise on a TV, occasionally screeching with color, and mostly red with blood.

You woke up shaking and sweating.

Ben was a light sleeper at best. He was startled awake in confusion, disturbed by how you had been tossing and turning and making sounds of distress. He turned toward you and moved his arm to make room for you, but he decided he would let you come to him this time.

You didn’t disappoint him. You reached for him and buried your face in the crook of his neck for a while, trying to ground yourself in him. He held you and rubbed your back until you calmed down.

When you pulled away slightly, and spoke his name in the dark, Ben looked into your eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn you were there. The real you.

“Thanks for staying with me,” you whispered.

Ben was disappointed. This wasn’t you remembering. But at least, this was you being you, thanking a man like him.

He just nodded and guided you back into his arms. You let him hold you for the rest of the night. 

AN: So close, but yet so far. 🥲

But just wait for the last part...

Next Time:

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around your body. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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[theemporium]

congrats on 10k lovelyyyyyy!!! truly deserving, your works are some of my favorites on this app 🫶🏻 may i order a 💜 "I can't smile at you, I'm mad." with nico hischier ?!! lots of love for youuuu

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

1."I can't smile at you, I'm mad."

.

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

Nico shot you an unamused look as he held the door open, long enough for the nurse in the room to sense the tension in the air and quickly scamper off. He flashed the nurse a thankful smile before letting the door close behind her, turning his attention back to you. 

“This isn’t funny,” he said eventually.

“It’s a little funny,” you countered, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, but in my defence, I didn’t think anything bad would actually happen.” 

“How is that your defence?” Nico countered with a frown.

“It’s all I could think of in the twenty minutes it took for you to arrive,” you admitted with a sheepish expression.

“Baby,” he sighed heavily. 

“Is this the part where you tell me I told you so?” You asked, still lighthearted and teasing as if you weren’t currently sitting on the hospital bed with your ankle all bandaged up from an accident that could have very easily been avoided. 

It was a running argument between you and Nico for the duration of your time spent in the apartment. You had moved in together over a year ago and it was absolutely perfect, minus the fact the top shelves of the cupboards were just out of your reach. 

It wasn’t too bad, considering most of the things on the top shelves were things you and Nico barely used in your everyday life. It was rare for you to reach for them, and even when you did, Nico was usually in the flat to help grab them for you. 

The argument stemmed from the day he came back home after practice to find you on the kitchen counter. Nico deemed it too unsafe, that you could fall or slip off when straining to get something from the shelf. You said he was being a bit dramatic, that you had done it plenty of times before with ease. 

The boy near had a heart attack every time he witnessed it in person. 

Now, here you were in the hospital, ankle wrapped up with an x-ray confirming it was broken and an odd sense of embarrassment towards the fact that Nico was right, that it was unsafe, that this all happened because you had the urge to bake and the cake tins were right at the back of the shelf. 

The doctors had called your emergency contact—Nico—after the x-rays had confirmed the fracture.

“Babe,” he said once again, his brows furrowed together as he shook his head. “I’m not happy about being right, you know that, right?” 

“You have to be a little bit smug though,” you countered. 

“My girlfriend broke her ankle and had to find her way to hospital alone,” Nico stated as he rounded the bed, like he needed some reassurance that you were okay as he reached for your hand. “Nothing about that sentence makes me feel happy or smug.” 

“Nico, baby, I’m fine,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand before patting a spot on the bed for him to sit down. “It’s not the end of the world and, overall, it’s funny. Now, c’mon, smile for me.” 

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad,” Nico muttered but took a seat on the bed, perched at the edge like he didn’t want to take too much space. Which was just comical with the size of him. “What if I was away on a roadie? Or what if something more serious than a broken ankle happened? What if—”

“You know why I love you so much?” You cut him off, watching as the boy flashed you a confused look. “Because you care so much. You had such a big heart and you are so, so sweet.” 

His cheeks flushed a little. “Stop trying to butter me up.” 

“I’m only telling you the truth,” you retorted before squeezing his hand once more, tugging him a little closer so you could lean in and peck his lips. “I’m sorry for worrying you. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about the kitchen counter. You were right.” 

“I’m sorry for being so hard on you,” he murmured in reply, leaning in for a longer kiss before his shoulders dropped a little in relief. “I swore my heart stopped when I saw all the missed calls and voicemails. I think Jack had to catch me a little when I realised it was from the hospital. I thought something really bad had happened and—”

“Instead it was just your pretty girlfriend busting her ankle whilst trying to bake?” You finished for him, a smile on your lips. “God, at least I never managed to get anything in the oven or we would have bigger problems to deal with.”

Nico snorted despite himself. “Shut up.” 

“There’s that smile I love,” you grinned happily, your finger lightly poking the dimple of his cheek. “Plus, look at the bright side.”

Nico raised his eyebrows. “And what’s that?” 

“I now have an excuse for you to carry me around,” you joked, something in your stomach twisting to see that dimple once again. 

Instead, his expression softened as he raised your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles. “I’d carry you wherever you wanna go, baby. Gonna take care of my girl,” he said with so much sincerity. 

“My own knight in shining armour,” you sighed happily.

“More like a sexy nurse,” he corrected, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “If I was your knight in shining armour, I would have caught you when you fell. Easy.” 

.

[txpainspecialists]

From Pain To Relief: Understanding The Transformative Power of Spinal Cord Stimulation

Back pain and leg pain are serious medical conditions impairing normal body functioning. Chronic pains make  an individual physically weak, ultimately causing the mind to gradually become weaker too. The leg or back pain and the resulting discomfort may be due to an accident or fall causing vertebral fracture or a herniated disc. 

However, due to advancements in medical science, such chronic and severe pain can be treated. One such effective pain relief treatment option for individuals who suffer from chronic back or leg pain is Spinal cord stimulation.

What is Spinal Cord Stimulation (SCS)?

Spinal Cord Stimulation (SCS) is an advanced, minimally invasive medical treatment procedure for minimizing the intensity of chronic pain.

This procedure makes use of mild electrical signals to block the pain nerves of the spine.

This masks the pain signals that are sent to the brain, & provide relief.

Spinal cord stimulation for pain relief helps in enhanced improvements in mobility and patient satisfaction.

Benefits of Spinal cord stimulation

A successful spinal cord stimulation offers several benefits. Some of these include:

Affordability

The implantation procedure for a spinal cord stimulator is less expensive than other surgical procedures.

Specific targeting

SCS therapy specifically targets the body area where an individual is having pain.

The spinal cord is targeted through mild electrical stimulation.

Effective alternative

Spinal cord stimulation for pain relief is an effective alternative strategy as compared to conventional pain management techniques.

It reduces the dependency on opioid medication for pain relief, thus reducing the risk of addiction and overdose.

It offers a completely holistic approach to chronic pain management.

Minimally invasive

The implantation of a spinal cord stimulator is done by a minimally invasive surgical procedure. 

Hence, this treatment procedure does not involve any major scars on the body or use of general anesthesia.

Reduction in chronic pain & Improved quality of life

Spinal Cord Stimulation treatment helps in effectively minimizing the levels of chronic pain experienced by individuals, thus providing relief from discomfort.

With this treatment, individuals can go back to their routine work and carry out additional physical tasks which otherwise would not have been possible.

Customization option

The pain patterns of every individual are different, so, one of the most amazing benefits of spinal cord stimulation for pain relief is its customizable nature.

Our Spinal cord stimulation Specialist in Houston can make personalized adjustments to the treatment based on the severity of the pain.

This tailor-made approach ensures that the treatment is aligned with the needs of an individual.    

Ideal candidate for spinal cord stimulation therapy

Although the SCS therapy holds tremendous promise in reducing chronic pain for several individuals, it is important to understand that this therapy may not be suitable for everyone. Prior to considering this treatment option, it is important to understand who will benefit from this therapy and who won't.

Patients suffering from the following medical conditions can be ideal candidates for SCS therapy.

Back and neck injuries

Joint pain

Degenerative conditions

Work-related injuries

Car accidental injuries

Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS)

Hip injuries

Candidates not ideal for SCS therapy

Here are some individuals who won’t be ideal candidates for SCS therapy.

Women who are pregnant or planning for a child

Individuals having an existing infection

Individuals who have existing psychological conditions that are untreated

Individuals with bleeding disorders

Individuals who have undergone trial stimulation but not got relief from pain

Finding spinal cord stimulation therapy near you

Texas Interventional Pain Specialists is one such reliable and trusted clinic for spinal cord stimulation for pain relief. By reviewing your medical history, physical examination, using  advanced diagnostic imaging techniques, nerve tests if required, we can determine whether you are an ideal candidate for the therapy or not.

No matter what the cause or extent of your back injury is, the expert, experienced, and professional pain management doctors at Texas Interventional Pain Specialists, Houston can accurately diagnose your medical condition and suggest the best treatment .

Get in touch with us today to learn more about how a spinal cord stimulation specialist Houston can assist you in getting relief from back pain.

[halsteadlover]

𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Will Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: yes by anon.

• Summary: danger is always behind the corner and you learn to never let your guard down when you find yourself in a situation between life and death. Will your husband be able to save you? Will he find you in time?

• Warnings: mention of domestic violence, stab wound, blood, cursing, Will is kind of a dumbass at the beginning (what can we say? Men…)

• Word count: 5642.

• A/N: I fucking hate how this turned out bye. I’m sorry for any mistake or grammar error.

That morning everything seemed normal.

You treated patients, cured some, discharged others and between one break and another you wasted no time going to your husband to give him a little kiss.

“What do you want eat tonight baby?” he asked. You and Will were in the doctors' break room during one of the aforementioned breaks, only the two of you in there. You were sitting on the small couch next to each other, his arm around your shoulders while you ate a bag of chips.

“Do you want to cook?”.

He looked at you for a moment and you chuckled at his expression. You both had to do a double shift that day so you knew neither of you would even want to go near the kitchen once you got back home.

“I’d like Mexican, what you think?”.

“Hell yeah! You know I never say no to Mexican food.”

He laughed at the enthusiasm you showed, meanwhile playing with strands of your hair. “Mexican it is then.”

You continued to devour the chips under your husband’s gaze who looked at you as if he had seen a mystical creature for the first time. “What? I’m hungry.” You babbled with your mouth half full.

“You don't even share with your beloved husband? So greedy.”

You glared at him before taking the last chip left in the bag and shoving it into your mouth, moaning heartily in his face. “No matter how much I love you, you know very well I don't share my food with anyone.”

He rolled his eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Wipe your mouth you pretty little bitch.”

But before you could reach for a tissue he came closer to you and licked the corner of your mouth, bursting out laughing when you pushed him away, wiping yourself with a tissue from the coffee table in front of you. “Ew Will you're disgusting!”

“Disgusting? You don't seem to complain when you take my dick in...-”

You covered his mouth with your hand before he could finish his sentence and let someone hear, feeling him smile as his eyes glistened at you. You should’ve predicted though that in true child style, he’d lick the palm of your hand.

“Will for fuck’s sake! Stop it!”.

“I can’t! God baby you're so easy to piss of,” he continued laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. You looked at him sideways before wiping your hand on his white coat. “C’mon give me a kiss now, come on.”

He wrapped his arms around your hips, trying to pull you towards him to kiss you while you tried to push him away by pressing your hands on his chest.

“No! Go away!”.

You continued to fight like children until, however, that playful atmosphere was interrupted when the door opened and Maggie entered.

“Here you are! Stop acting like lovebirds and go back to work. We have two new patients, victims of a car crash.”

After quickly washing your hands you left the break room, following Will and Maggie. You and Will exchanged a look before splitting up to go to the two patients.

The patient you took into your care – whose name you found out was Amanda – was in a critical condition: fractures of the femur and humerus not to mention the small fractures in almost her entire body, a sprained arm that would’ve required a cast, an internal hemorrhage due to the rupture of the spleen.

As you and the nurses worked to stabilize Amanda as quickly as possible, you couldn't help but notice something that bothered you quite a bit.

On her lower back, around her arms, on her thighs there were bruises that were not compatible with the dynamics of the car crash and which based on their almost faded color seemed to date back to some time ago.

“Amanda, did you have another accident a few days ago?” You asked her, your voice low so the rest of the team wouldn't hear you. She looked at you with a heartbroken expression and her eyes filled with tears before shaking her head.

“I'm just very clumsy and distracted, I often fall or bump into furniture and doors.”

Her voice was shaking and your heart tightened, knowing it was a complete lie.

“Amanda… You're safe here okay? Say one word, anything and whoever did this won't hurt you again...”

“No, no, no, no,” she became agitated and her heart monitor began to beep from her rapid heartbeat. “Please don't say anything doctor… He… Please. He's a good husband, he's just a little tired and stressed lately.”

“Hey, hey, it's okay Amanda, it's okay. I'm just here to help you.” You shook her hand and she nodded weakly. “But whatever he told you, it isn’t…-”

“It’s fine just… Just cure me.” She tore her eyes away from yours, bringing them to the ceiling even if more tears continued to fall.

It was clear that Amanda was a victim of domestic violence, she was literally terrified of her husband. You felt helpless, your heart broke for her even if you couldn’t even imagine what she was going through.

You were treating that woman knowing she’d go home and her husband would start beating her again. What kind of doctor were you if you hadn't helped her?

But how could you help someone who didn't want to be helped?

You should’ve called the police, but what would you have said to them? It was your assumption even if all the bruises and healed bone fractures were evidence of physical abuse, but you knew how the police worked, they couldn't do anything if there was no complaint from the victim. And you knew if you called them, Amanda would deny everything and it’d affect her worse than it already did.

You sent Amanda to run some tests and left her room after throwing away your gloves and washing your hands. Your mind was only focused on her as you filled out her medical records so much you didn't even hear Will come closer to you until he put his hand around her waist to great you, leaving a kiss on you temple.

“Baby you okay? How is the wife?” He asked as he picked up her bastard husband's newly created medical record.

“She was in critical condition but I believe she’ll make full recovery. The husband?”.

“He was luckier, he only suffered a few bruises and small fractures. The guy must be madly in love with his wife, all he did was ask about her and say he wanted to see her.”

“I think Amanda is a victim of domestic violence, your guy isn't in love at all,” you voiced your concerns before placing your pen on the papers and looking at Will.

“You sure?”.

“She has bruises all over her body clearly from days ago and her X-Rays show old healed fractures. Not mentioning how she’s terrified of him.”

“Wow…” Will breathed out, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “There must be an explanation…”

“Babe did you hear a word I just said? We have to help that woman. He’ll kill sooner or later.”

“Don't you think you're a little bit exaggerating a little love?” Will put his hands on your shoulders “If she doesn't tell you anything there's nothing we can do…”

“Will, he beats the shit out of her and God knows what else does to her!” You whispered/shouted with frustration. “She doesn't say anything so we let that bastard beat her?”.

“I didn’t mean that! What I was trying to say is just… Don't jump to conclusions, there must be other reasons why she must’ve gotten those bruises…”

“Oh yeah of course. She must hit herself on the side so hard she left a shoe imprint on her skin for fun. This really makes sense.” You snapped the folder close and walked away, ignoring Will who tried to call you out.

You were pissed off.

It was always the same exact story, over and over again.

How the fuck were women supposed to trust the system and report abuses when those who were part of this system didn't even believe them?

You talked to Amanda, stood by her side during her MRI and the other tests, keeping her away from her husband as much as possible.

You didn't force her to say anything, you didn't insist to let her talk about what was happening in her household. It wouldn't do her any good, you wanted her to know she had a choice, you wanted to give her as much time as possible to think about what to do.

“Whatever happened I believe you Amanda, okay? You don't have to be afraid and I'll be here to help you if you want.”

That was all you said to her about the topic and she nodded slightly before bursting into a liberating and heartbreaking cry. You stayed with her the whole time, hugging her and reassuring her that everything would be okay, that she wasn’t alone.

Yet she said nothing to you, nothing about her husband, deeply terrified of the consequences there might be.

She eventually fell asleep and you let her rest, telling the nurses to always keep an eye on her and to let you know immediately if anything happened.

“Dr. Y/Ln, Mr. Connell's X-Rays just arrived, Dr. Halstead left for another patient.” A nurse had told you as soon as you passed by their station. Your heart skipped a beat, realizing you didn’t meet Amanda’s husband yet.

You wanted so much to let him rot in hell but you couldn't, you had duties to fulfill as a doctor even if he was the most disgusting piece of shit on earth.

You took the envelope with the X-Rays and thanked the nurse before she went back helping other patients. You went to the bastard's room, taking a deep breath before entering.

You tried to hide your indignation as soon as you saw him lying on the bed, maintaining a professional and impassive expression.

“Who are you? Where is Dr. Halstead?” He asked as soon as you entered his room.

“I'm Dr. Y/Ln, he's busy at the moment.”

“My wife… Do you know where she is? How is she?”. If you hadn't seen the condition of Amanda's body you would’ve even thought he was really worried.

Son of a bitch.

You swallowed the anger that threatened to release words you’d regret and that you knew Amanda would pay the price for. “She's fine. She’s doing some tests,” you deadpanned before taking the X-Ray out of the folder. “There are no serious fractures, just a small one here on the collarbone…”

“I want to know where my wife is. Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?” He blurted out, not even letting you finish your sentence.

“Sir, as I said, she’s doing some tests. She was in quite critical condition and we’re doing our best to treat her,” you replied in a flat tone although your heart was pounding. The way he was looking at you made your skin crawl and your heart ached for Amanda and the fact she had to live with this piece of shit every single day.

“What tests is she doing?”.

“I’m sorry but I cannot discuss clinical details of other patients with other people.”

He looked at you angrily. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m her husband! I have the right to know how my wife is doing!”.

“Mr Connell I’m just trying to do my job. I just came here to show you your X-Rays, like…” You continued talking, holding up them again to show them to him but cut yourself off when he pulled the covers away from his body and stood up abruptly, making you take a step back in fear.

“What’s going on doctor? Why don't you want to update me on my wife's health status?” He stated through gritted teeth, taking steps towards you and looking at you menacingly. You slowly took as many steps back, your breathing quickening as fear took over you.

“Mr Connell, just go back to bed…”

“What did that filthy whore say to you?” He spat and you were about to rush to the door and run away when he violently pushed you against it, making you fall to the ground.

“What. Did. She. Say.” He grabbed your hair in a fist and pulling you back to your feet.

You squirmed to try to escape his grasp, digging your nails into his skin. “She didn't tell me anything… I don't know what you're talking about…”

He punched you in the face in response, causing you to let out a loud cry of pain as you fell to the ground again.

“Fuck,” you muttered, holding a hand to your nose and realizing you were bleeding.

In that moment you had a glimpses of what Amanda had to go through every single day of her life and you could really understand why she was so terrified of that man.

“Oh you know exactly what I'm talking about you bitch.”

You tried to get up but he grabbed your hair in a fist again and pushed you with force towards the emergency cart in the room, so violently some objects fell from it and some drawers opened.

“You piece of shit…” you spat as you tried to get up but he walked over to you and kicked you back to the ground.

It all happened quickly.

So quickly that between his attacks you didn't even have time to process what was happening. He was overpowering you and every time you tried to hit him so you could escape, he hit you back.

He pushed you on the floor, picked you up and tossed you around the room as if you were a garbage bag.

You were lying on the ground, curled up in a fetal position as you held your stomach after a painful kick to the stomach.

Your mind went to Will, wanting nothing more than your husband in that moment.

Baby please help me.

You lay down on your back in an attempt to catch some breath but a scream echoed through the room.

Your whole body froze and in an instant everything around you stopped.

What happened?

Was that scream yours?

A searing pain went through your abdomen and a warm sensation enveloped your body.

You lifted your head slightly only to realize in horror you had a pair of scissors impaled in your abdomen.

He fucking stabbed me.

You had treated hundreds of thousands of patients with stab wounds, you had always tried to reassure them, telling them you knew it hurt but everything would be fine.

But the truth was that you had no idea what your patients were feeling, the paralyzing fear, the excruciating pain, the terror of not surviving.

You don't fully know things until you go through them and in that moment, as the blood poured out of your stomach and smeared your red uniform, making it two shades darker, your body paralyzed by shock, you really understood how it felt.

Your chest rose and fell quickly as you struggled to breathe properly. Tears began to fell from your eyes when you saw the man bending over you and at that precise moment you feared your time had come.

You feared you’d never see Will again, that he wouldn’t find out until you were dead.

You needed him, you wanted your husband.

Please Will I need you.

The man pulled the scissors out of your wound which started to bleed a lot more, staining the floor red.

He looked into your eyes and the coldness he showed almost shocked you. They were glassy, empty, devoid of emotions and any trace of remorse.

“When you see my beloved wife, tell her to start planning her funeral.”

Without looking back, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving you dying and immersed in a pool of your own blood.

The wound burned stingingly as you brought your trembling hands to it to try to make pressure, but in vain.

How could so much blood come out of a not so big wound?

Sounds of throbbing pain continued to escape your lips, your breathing heavy, your heart beating wildly.

You tried to move and lift yourself up but every time you ended up lying back on the ground.

You were too weak.

What you managed to do was crawl on your elbows, leaving a trail of blood on the floor with every step you made.

You raised an arm to try to open the door. Your trembling fingers even managed to wrap around the handle but the blood on them made you slip and fall to the floor again.

Your breathing was starting to slow down, as was your heartbeat. That feeling of heat that invaded your body turned into cold, forming goosebumps all over your skin.

You were tired. So incredibly tired.

You just wanted to get some sleep and rest a bit.

So you closed your eyes, not knowing if you’d open them again.

Will looked everywhere for you but couldn't find you. He even looked for you in Amanda's room who, however, had told him she hadn't seen you for some time. He thought you were avoiding him but he couldn't think you had abandoned your patients just to avoid talking to him.

“Have you seen Y/n?” He had asked Maggie as soon as he saw her walk by.

“No, but I’ll tell her to look for you as soon as I see her.”

It felt like you had disappeared off the face of the earth, he knew you’d never have left without warning unless it was an emergency.

He tried to page you so many times, to call you on your cell phone but nothing, he received no answer. His mind tried not to immediately think something bad had happened, he couldn't even imagine it, but it was all he could think about at that moment since no one seemed to have seen you for a while.

He thought you might’ve gone to talk to Amanda's husband, knowing you would’ve tried to confront him. So he went towards Jack’s room but he stopped in his tracks before opening the door when his feet stepped on something wet.

He lowered his gaze and looking down he soon realized with horror it was blood.

He tried to open the door carefully, his heart beating wildly as he imagined all sorts of scenarios in front of him.

The door didn't open completely, as if there was some sort of resistance on the other side, so Will tried to squeeze through the small space.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for what his eyes saw, for what he never wanted to see.

His heart stopped beating for a few seconds when his eyes fell on the unconscious figure lying on the floor and immersed in a pool of her own blood. That figure he’d never, ever wanted to see in that condition, not even in his worst nightmares. YOU.

“Oh my god Y/n!” He loudly exclaimed, immediately kneeling next to you and pressing his hands on your wound from which blood was still flowing. You didn't react, your eyes were closed, your heartbeat slow.

“Baby, wake up… Please, please, please, open your eyes.”

How long were you there? Why hadn't anyone notice this?

“Somebody help me! Hurry up!”.

“Oh shit!” The nurse who rushed there screamed, putting her hands over her mouth as soon as she saw Will kneeling down, covered in your own blood.

“Where the fuck were you?!” Will exclaimed angrily, his mind completely clouded from the anger, the confusion, from the fear of coming too late.

“Oh God… I… I gave her the patient's X-Rays… There was an emergency and… And… I-I had to leave…” she stammered, shocked.

Will gave her a murderous look that would’ve killed her on the spot if he could. He knew it wasn't her fault, just the bastard who did this to you, but he couldn't help but blame someone in that moment.

He brought his eyes back to you, only then noticing the scratches and bruises that surrounded your face.

Oh baby what did they do to you?

“I'm here love, I'm here… It's okay. You’ll be fine. Just hang on for a bit.”

One of his hands let go of your wound to check your pulse, realizing it was barely noticeable. His heart tightened in a vice as he caressed her face, staining it with your own blood.

“Please wake up, please… Don't do this to me baby, you can't… You can't… I need you…” He kept repeating, his eyes starting to glaze over with tears after yelling for help again. Dr. Crockett, who was passing by at the time, intervened immediately as soon as he realized what was happening.

“What the hell happened?!” He asked urgently as he watched the horrific scene that seemed to come out from a horror movie. “We need to take her to the OR immediately, prepare four bags of 0 neg, she's lost too much blood!”

But Will didn't let you go, he continued to stay there putting pressure on your wound and keeping his gaze fixed on you.

“Will…” Crockett murmured placing a hand on his shoulder “She'll be make it okay? She’s in good hands but you have to let me do my job, you can’t be here.”

“Will!”.

Only then he seemed to realize Crockett was actually talking to him. He slightly nodded, reluctantly letting you go and watching as they carried you away.

He was in shock, struggling to believe what was happening was reality and not just a fucking nightmare.

He raised his now red and trembling hands and his eyes looked at them for a few moments, analyzing and carefully observing the blood he hardly struggled to believe was yours.

What the hell happened?

There was no doubt it was that bastard Jack Connell who did this to you and an anger he had never felt before ran through him.

He was furious.

Furious because he had allowed someone to hurt you, because he had failed to protect you, furious with himself because he didn’t believed you when you expressed your concern.

He was devastated.

Desperate.

It was all his fault.

He stayed there for he didn't know how long, looking at those hands that until recently were pressing on your wound, the same hands that until a few hours before were holding you and hugging you.

When he finally looked up around the room, he noticed what a dire, chaotic mess there was and it was clear there had been a fight before.

Only then he realized there was no trace of that bastard, that he had probably already escaped from the hospital and with the tumultuous coming and going of patients, nurses and doctors no one had even noticed him.

He took his cell phone out of his pocket, not caring he was getting blood on it, and with trembling fingers dialed Jay's number.

Jay almost had a heart attack when he heard about what happened and seeing his brother covered in blood was awful even if he knew it wasn't his. He was worried for you while trying to calm Will down. But he was still in a catalytic state so Jay stayed with him, helping him clean himself up.

Will explained to his brother it was probably Jack Connell who did it, he told him your concerns about him mentally and physically abusing his wife but that he didn't believe you.

“It's not your fault okay? I want you to understand this. It was his fault, it’s him who did this to her and I promise we’ll get him and make him pay for what he did to her, he’ll rot in prison. An attack on Y/n is an attack on all of us.” He tried to reassure Will. “She'll make it, she’s strong but she needs you now, she needs you to be by her side, I know you're scared now but you have to be strong for her, brother.”

Will was completely losing his mind while waiting for your surgery to be over, not sitting for even a minute as he paced back and forth in the waiting room, waiting at the same time some news from Jay.

When Crockett finally came out of the OR and announced the surgery had gone well and that he had managed to sew up the wound, Will couldn't help but hug him in the throes of joy and happiness.

As he walked to the ICU, he felt a weight pressing down on his shoulders, anxiety gnawing at his stomach to the point it made him feel nauseous.

His legs trembled as he approached your bed, his palms sweated, his eyes watered as he looked at you lying on that bed, unconscious.

He sat down on a chair next to you, taking one of your hands as his thumb caressed your skin. He pressed his lips on your knuckles, leaving a chaste and small kiss so light as if he was afraid of hurting you.

He sniffed when he realized a few tears had escaped his eyes, quickly wiping them away with his fingers. “I'm so sorry baby, this wasn't supposed to happen to you,” He whispered, looking at you while struggling to keep his emotions inside.

He felt terribly guilty.

It was his fault you were on that bed.

It was his fault you had to suffer.

His heart tightened as he thought about what you had to go through and he hated himself for not being able to prevent it, for not believing you.

He didn't want to think about how scared you had been, how terrified you were of dying, how many you had called for him but he didn’t come.

“I'm so sorry I didn't believe you, I'll never forgive myself,” he kept talking to you. “How can you be so beautiful even on a hospital bed? I really am a lucky bastard.”

He smiled faintly as he looked at you. “Please wake up baby, show me those beautiful eyes I fell so madly in love with… I’m begging you…”

He stood up and left a kiss on your forehead while stroking your hair at the same time before sitting back on the chair.

“I already miss you so much you know that? I'm sorry I don't tell you often how much I love you, I'm sorry I only realized now that I risked losing you how much you mean to me. Don't get me wrong I already know this, you’re one of the most important person in my life, God only knows I can't live without you... But I didn't realize how intensely and deeply you affect my life Y/n. You… Damn it…” He finished the sentence with a sigh as he tried to find the right words.

“I can't exist without you, I can't think properly, I can’t breathe, I... I’m nothing. You completed me, you always managed to fill the void I’ve always felt inside, you’ve always been that fundamental piece to complete the puzzle. Just… Please… Please don't leave me.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the beeps of the monitor connected to your heart. He left another kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes never leaving your sleeping face.

“I love you so much Y/n Halstead, you have no idea how much. I stop to think about our wedding day every now and then and you don't know how much money I’d pay to go back to that day and see you again in that beautiful white dress... God I would say yes to you a million more times and if we lived other lives I would say yes to you in those too because meeting you and marrying you was the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.”

“I'm so sorry…” He whispered, the words dying in his throat before he let out a silent cry, his forehead resting on the bed as he continued to silently pray.

“I heard you the first thousand times Dr Halstead…”

Will snapped his head to you, his eyes widening and almost having a heart attack when he saw you were finally awake and looking at him.

You had a small smile on your lips, trying not to chuckle as you looked at the shocked look on his face.

“Baby oh my fucking god!” He almost screamed before leaning over you and hugging you in the rush of joy and happiness. He held you tightly for an indefinite time, fearing for a moment it was a hallucination.

He let you go though when you let out a painful sigh. “Shit I'm sorry love.” He sat down again. “How are you? How are you feeling? You need something? Are you hurting? God I missed you so much.”

“The wound hurts a little but overall I'm fine...” You replied, your voice thick and hoarse. “What happened? Where is that son of a bitch? Is Amanda okay?”.

“He ran away after what… What he did to you and I called Jay, they'll catch him I promise. Amanda is okay, Jay questioned her and she told him everything, you were right about the abuse… I’m so sorry for not believing you.”

You nodded feebly, momentarily looking away from Will who kept his eyes on you with a broken look on his face, and you took a deep breath, more painful than you would’ve ever imagined.

Image after image of the attack replayed in your mind.

Of the screams no one seemed to hear.

Of the prayers to let you go.

Of his hands punching you and throwing you against the walls and objects in the room as if you were garbage.

Of his feet kicking you.

Of those scissors that had torn your skin and stabbed you.

“Oh baby.” You felt Will's thumb wipe away a tear that had slipped down your temple without you even realizing it. “C’mere.”He stood up and hugged you as best he could again, being careful this time not to hurt you. “It's okay, you're here with me now and you're safe. That piece of shit won't hurt you again I promise.”

It was as if that hug had triggered something inside you and you burst into tears, lifting your arms and encircling his chest while venting all the suppressed emotions.

“I was… I was so scared Will… T-that I wouldn't see you again…”

Will pressed his lips to your forehead, leaving a sweet and long kiss as he savored and thanked the angels for still giving the opportunity to do it.

“I know darling, I know, I can't even imagine what you went through…”

He stroked your hair, your skin marred by scratches and bruises. “It shouldn't have happened to you, I'm so sorry my love. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you...” he kissed you again. “But you're safe now okay? Now you're here with me, you're safe, and unless I’ll die I'll never let you out of my sight again.”

You giggled through your tears, hugging again the man you loved more than anything else.

“I love you so much more Will Halstead, it's not your fault okay? Please always remember that, it wasn't you who did it but that son of a bitch.”

He didn't answer but held you tighter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while your fingers ran through his fluffy hair. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying.

“Hey, hey, it's okay. You really think I would leave you? Who would’ve made your life a living hell if I died?” You tried to ease the tension. “Oh baby I love you so much.”

“I thought I lost you… When I found you there…” His words came muffled but he stopped, not even being able to finish the sentence. He didn't want to think about those horrible moments anymore, about the fear he felt, even though he knew those images would never leave his mind.

A feeling of anguish took hold of you after hearing he was the one who found you. You couldn't imagine how horrible it was to find your wife, your partner, the person you care about most, almost dying.

“Shh it’s okay,” you whispered “Look at me.”

He slightly lifted his head and if your heart wasn't broken enough already, it was in that moment. You cupped your hands over his face, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. He leaned into your touch, looking at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world.

“I'm here, I'll get better. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. If anything you saved me baby, if you hadn't found me I would’ve probably bled to death so stop blaming yourself okay? Do it for me.“

He nodded and you smiled before pressing your lips to his in a sweet, gentle kiss.

“I’m so sorry love I don’t want to make this about me,” he said wiping again his tears and you both chuckled.

“Yeah yeah, sure, you egocentric bastard.” You rolled your eyes and burst out laughing at the same time even if you stopped immediately after, holding your stomach. “Fuck it hurts.”

“I know you’re so funny baby but take it easy.”

Despite everything, despite the pain, the anxiety and the terror of dying, the fear of never seeing that red hair again, of never hugging him, you were so grateful for still being there. You were grateful to life for giving you another opportunity, for allowing to live, to cry again, to love.

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