#car+accident+injury

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was hit by a truck going 50km/h in front of an elementary school. The Wii bowling announcer voice announced it was a strike and the witnesses cheered and applauded the truck driver.

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Purrchance to Dream - Part 8!

This chapter deals with some heavier themes. For more detail, click the content warning below. It contains mild spoilers.

CONTENT WARNING

Companion fic written by @ukcalico >> here on Ao3! Part 9 is up on >> Patreon.

<< Part 1 | < Previous | > Next

(tagging: @goodomensafterdark)

[superblysubpar]

<- part three | part five -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Steve drives you to work all week.

the song: Smoke by Caroline Polachek

also for your listening pleasure: Do You Believe In Love by Huey Lewis & The News, We Are the Champions by Queen, and In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel

6,475 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / wearing steve’s clothing, but size isn’t mentioned / for the purposes of this fic, you drink coffee and you take it sweet / alcohol mentions/consumption - you are tipsy in this / brief descriptions of car accidents/injury with some blood/ slight descriptions of panic/anxiety happening to Steve | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - Tuesday

You slam the alarm button down when it goes off on Tuesday morning, sitting on your bed, fully dressed, one hour too early. 

Your knee bounces up and down, your teeth rip at the skin next to your thumb, and you stare at the clock, counting down, literally, to when your ride will be here. 

Steve had offered, when he dropped you off last night, to pick you up all week. It was supposed to rain off and on till Friday, you shouldn’t have to bike so far, it was the least he could do all babbled out of him as you sat in his passenger seat still wearing his clothes. 

What was the surprise, to both of you, is that you’d said yes to his offer. 

He’d blinked at you, you blinked at him and he nodded, fingers fiddling with the radio dial as he murmured, “Cool, cool.”

You’d sat in his passenger seat in silence, both staring out the windshield at your apartment complex until Steve cleared his throat and looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Oh!” You quickly snapped off the seatbelt and pushed the door open, pausing to look down at the clothes you had on and the wet ones in your hands. “Um, I’ll, I can change quick and-“

“No!” 

He snapped his jaw closed and rubbed at his temple, blowing out a breath before he gestured, “I meant, like, don’t go to the trouble. It’s late, and, I’ll see you, and it’s fine, I don’t even wear those pants to sleep in because they’re too hot and-“

“Steve?” You interrupted, lips twitching against a smile. 

“Yeah?” He replied limply.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiled. You smiled. Something was definitely wrong with your stomach and so, sure you were about to be sick in his car, you mumbled something about seeing him tomorrow and quickly closed the door, then climbed the stairs up to your front door. 

Steve waited to back out of his parking spot until you were safely inside where he couldn’t see you fall backwards against the door with an exhale and you couldn’t see him rubbing his face at the exit of the complex mumbling the word ‘idiot’. 

Which is what you felt like, when you woke up with the sunrise, still wearing Steve Harrington’s clothes. 

And you were still feeling like it after you showered, scrubbing at your skin till it stung because you felt like you needed to wash off any evidence of the smell that clung to your body like it was supposed to. But somehow that didn’t stop you from spending longer on picking out an outfit, or taking more time to get ready. Reasoning with yourself that it was because you didn’t have to bike, that you woke up early, it’s nice to dress up and take care of yourself every once in awhile, it feels good to be put together for no one but yourself. 

This is what you’re currently telling your reflection, avoiding eye contact with the sweatshirt as you stomp out of the room towards your kitchen. 

But as you move down your hallway, something, or rather someone, outside the window catches your eye and you grab your bag and leave your apartment to figure out what he’s doing. 

Steve’s crouched down next to your bike, large fingers working on something with the chain with a furrow between his eyebrows. He doesn’t hear you approaching, which is probably why he shoots up at the sound of your voice, the back of his head smacking right into the metal bike rack.

“Harring-“ his name cut off with a sharp empathetic wince as his eyes shut tight and his jaw pulses after he curses under his breath.

“Sorry,” you rub at your elbow, scuffing a converse on the ground as you squint at him, “Believe it or not, that wasn’t on purpose.”

Steve exhales what you think is supposed to be a laugh, as he blinks at the ground, “Yeah, I…” 

His words get lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth somehow because all he can think now is:

Pretty.

The word makes his tongue feel too big for his mouth, like he needs to say it or it’ll just keep sitting there and he’ll suffocate as it swells.  It’s not like he’s not thought that word around you before, he has. But the urge to say it hasn’t ever quite made him feel like this, like he’s gonna die.

“You…?” Your head tilts, eyes squinting to inspect him more, heartbeat thrumming faster as Steve stares at you intensely.

“Don’t,” Steve finishes, standing up slowly, your red helmet swinging in his fingers. 

“You don’t?” The two of you blink at each other.

“Believe you,” Steve offers.

“Oh, right.” 

You hate that you feel so warm under his stare, hate that you’re wondering if he likes your outfit. You hate-

“I, um,” Steve gestures to the bike, “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to say yes to me driving you. Since you, you know, hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

The words slip off of your tongue so easily, you bite down on it in fear that more lies will fall out. 

The words to Steve are, however, exactly what he needed to hear to remember who the hell he is. 

Steve grins, two freckles lifting as he asks, softly, fondly, “Yeah?”

“I,” you swallow, wondering if it’s possible that Steve Harrington possesses the power to erase ‘how to speak’ from your list of skills and abilities simply because he’s got nice eyes and smells good.

His grin settles, a smug smirk keeping his lips in a flat line before he whispers, “What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes narrow, arms crossing over your Journey t-shirt as you snap, “I don’t hate you. I despise you.”

Steve’s gaze darts over your face, before golden iris’ are settling on yours. He takes a step closer, dangerously closing the gap between your bodies as he whispers, “Yeah? Well I detest you.”

His chest rises and falls, bumping your crossed arms, the toe of his Nike’s touching the tops of your converse. So close you can count freckles on his nose and see green in his eyes.

“Wow,” your words hushed, but dripping in sarcasm, “Another big brain word and it hasn’t even been a week. Would you like a prize?”

Steve’s eyes flash, his lips twist up as he leans in even closer, “Yeah,” murmured as the tip of his nose almost touches yours, mint toothpaste fanning over your lips, “I would.”

Your breath leaves your lungs, held somewhere so it can’t escape as his nose brushes the bridge of yours before it’s suddenly gone. 

“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” spoken over his shoulder with a grin as he heads towards his car. 

Steve faces his car again, biting the inside of his lip out of your sight as you close your eyes out of his. 

Were you just going to let him kiss you?

Your legs feel wobbly as you make your way across the pavement towards the maroon car, and even more so when, nestled inside and buckled, Steve’s hand rests on the back of your seat as he says, “You look really pretty today, by the way.”

His forearm flexes in the corner of your eye as he looks over his shoulder to back out of the spot, spinning his steering wheel with the other hand effortlessly. The movement and skill makes your legs press together under your skirt, and you bite the inside of your cheek, adamant on ignoring what your body wants to tell you.

Steve fiddles with the radio dial as he comes to a stop sign.

“You know,” you bite, mad at yourself for falling for this, mad at him for starting it, just mad, “I haven’t forgotten that you have five days left to get me, of all people, to sleep with you. And as much as it pains me to say this, we’ve been in each others lives for quite awhile now, and I know you, Harrington. This isn’t working, it’s not going to work, and the fact that you think-“

He says your name roughly, tight, like the word burns his throat to say it. He leans over the console, ducking his head to catch your gaze causing a strand of hair to fall over his forehead. 

“Have you ever thought, for one second, that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as much of an asshole as you think, but because I know you hate me, I’ve never even tried to give you a compliment because that’s just not what we do? Tell me, honestly, if I’d have told you that you looked pretty, before today, before this bet, you wouldn’t have bit my head off then too? Or, god forbid, would have believed me?”

His breath is sharp, his gaze pierces into you, making something in your chest spark and sizzle, it’s not unlike the swell of pride you get when you win, and it’s better. 

It’s addicting. 

A horn honks and Steve blinks, facing the windshield and moving the car forward again. 

“I don’t hate you,” the words are a whisper, not as easily said as earlier.

“Right,” Steve clears his throat. He glances over at you with a small smile, then back at the road as he sighs, “Just despise.”

You hum a feeble agreement, and let Huey Lewis & The News fill the silence, asking if you believe in love. 

Steve’s fingers tap along to the song, his lips part, every other word softly exhaled as he sings under his breath. Which makes it hard to convince yourself that his words were just words, they meant nothing, and yours weren’t true either.

Steve Harrington doesn’t think you’re pretty and you hate each other. 

Despise. 

Whatever.

Your hands rest in your lap, thumb catching on a loose thread in your skirt that you are indebted to now. 

Not because Steve thinks you look pretty in it. 

But, because, if you instead search for where the loose thread begins, that brain space cannot be occupied by trying to figure out other times Steve wanted to call you pretty, or how you would have reacted, or how there’s two coffees in his cupholders next to your elbow. Focusing perhaps on, how the snag happened in your skirt could even make it so you don’t think about how, somehow, the leather of the seats and the coffee in such a tight space only make his normal scent of something minty and woodsy better and-

“Before you ask, no it’s not poisoned, and no, this isn’t me trying to woo you or whatever.” He gestures to the coffee, as if he’s reading your mind, “Could you hand me mine? Think it’s the front one.”

You’re shocked to learn that one of them is for you, and even more so when he grabs the cup from you and sips, grimaces, then coughs. 

“Ugh,” he licks his lips and holds it over to you, “That one was yours.”

You hand him the other cup, staring down at the one he handed back to you.

He bought you coffee and seemingly knows how you take it. 

As he pulls into the Family Video lot, expertly avoiding the kids skating and running around in front of Palace Arcade already, he sighs.

“You know,” he puts the car in park and looks at you, “I don’t have cooties.”

Haven’t even thought of the fact that if you took a sip, your lips would be where his had been, your body warms at the ‘kiss through contact’ possibility like a thirteen year old girl with a crush, heartbeat erratic still from the gesture of getting you the coffee.

“Actually, I was wondering if you did in fact poison this, because you despise me.”

“Detest,” Steve offers quietly with a smile.

“Detest,” you agree.

“I took a sip of it though. How would it be poisoned?”

“Maybe you’re like Westley and built up some sort of tolerance to this particular poison.”

Steve stares at you, blinking in silence until finally he asks, “What?”

“The Princess Bride?” You unsnap your seatbelt as he starts to get out of the car, talking over the roof of it. “Harrington, you have to have seen The Princess Bride?”

Steve swings his keys on his finger as he follows you to the front door, squinting. Both of you loving to have something to discuss that feels like easily navigated territory again. 

“Is that the one with Daisy?”

“Buttercup,” you correct immediately, stopping on the sidewalk to face him, “That’s our first movie today. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Fine,” Steve shrugs, but then nods to the cup in your hand, “If you take a sip and say thank you really sweetly.”

You scoff, “I don’t have to do shit, I’m the manager. And that was an if.”

Steve nods, holding his hand out. “Okay, then give me the coffee.”

“But...” you hesitate, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafting up to your nose. 

He definitely knows your order.

“Thought you said no ifs, ands, or buts?” Steve grins.

Your lips scowl before you mutter, “Don’t be cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” He smiles wider than he has all morning, showing off perfect, dazzling teeth. 

You roll your eyes and lift the cup to your lips. His eyes remain on yours, drinking you in just as much as you drink the coffee, gazes unwavering upon each other. 

It’s hard to swallow the perfectly made to your specifications coffee when he whispers, “That’a girl. See, was that so hard? Now, what do we say?”

“Thank you,” you grit, but Steve’s hand stops yours from unlocking the door.

“That wasn’t very sweet…” he tsks, sing song lilt to his voice.

With his hand over yours on the handle, you sigh, focusing on getting to watch a favorite movie instead of the way it engulfs yours. Batting your eyelashes, you force out a cheery, “Thank you, Harrington.”

Steve smirks, shakes his head no. He leans in, just like he had at your apartment. 

Just like when you almost let him kiss you. 

“First name, honey.”

That sparking, sizzling, simmering feeling is happening in your chest again.

Steve’s breath in is yours out as you murmur, “Thank you, Ste-“

“Jesus Christ! Thank fuck you’re alive! I’ve been…”

Eddie’s shout drifts off as he jumps out of his van, his eyes darting between you and Steve who’s starting to stand up straighter, hand dropping from the top of yours.

You clear your throat as Eddie grins at you, then Steve, then you again as he steps closer.

Eddie’s gaze looks over your outfit and your cheeks warm as he hums, raising his eyebrows over bright brown eyes that see right through you. 

“Well, don’t you look nice today.”

  Hawkins, Indiana - Wednesday

  He was already on thin ice, and now, you were planning to fully cut a hole in said ice and let him meet his demise in the cold, dark water beneath it.

  Eddie doesn’t seem to care, as he winces with fake sympathy, and tosses an M&M in his mouth as you glare at him with your arms folded over your chest. 

  “What do you mean, you can’t take me anymore?” 

  He shrugs, but takes a step away from you, seemingly out of harms way.

  Physical harms way at least.

“I have to go back into the shop, Wayne needs me. I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you?” He puts on a nice, big, Munson level show - hands folded in prayer, big pouty lips, and blinking sad doe eyes. 

  You stand in front of the counter, rubbing your temple from the fluorescent that’s been blinking all morning. 

  “I didn’t eat lunch, I didn’t pack a lunch, because you promised the diner, you made a big deal about tradition,” you start towards him, hangry and looking for vengeance. 

  Eddie quickly sidesteps around the corner, standing directly across from you as you both go in a circle around the main counter where Robin sits, typing at the computer. 

  “Beer, on me,” he pleads, quickening his pace, “Tomorrow. A whole pitcher, just for you. I won’t even make fun of you when you get a gutter ball every turn!”

  “I don’t want beer, Munson! I want a strawberry shake and a damn cheeseburger!”

  “I can take you.”

  Steve’s quiet offer makes you freeze, Eddie grins and backs out quickly towards the front door, pointing, “What a wonderful idea Steve! I wish you both a lovely first date!”

  “Eddie!” you shriek, stomping towards the door, but he’s gone. 

  The bell chimes as he dashes through it with a salute, Steve clears his throat while you stand frozen, staring at the closed glass doors. 

  After Eddie had found you yesterday, and thoroughly bothered you about your outfit, and what he didn’t interrupt, because there was nothing to interrupt, he’d shown up at your apartment with far too many questions and far too much of an opinion on your relationship with Steve Harrington.

  Not a relationship. A friendship.

  No. 

  A mutual understanding. A common ground. An agreement of ceasefire of your overt…hatred. A, maybe, slow ascent to friendship, one day, perhaps. 

  Which seemed to please the idiot who was betting against Steve winning, well into the night. So, he agreed to take you out to lunch the next day, honoring your tradition, yet assuring you that the conversation was in fact, not over. 

  Robin finally breaks the silence, calling your name, then, “You good?”

  “Yeah,” you mumble, crossing your arms, “Just debating sleeping with Harrington so Eddie loses three hundred dollars.”

  There’s a choking sound behind you, and you spin to see Steve’s mouth stuffed with Red Vines.

  Your Red Vines. 

  “Are you kidding me? What did I say!”

  You stomp towards him and he holds up his hands in surrender, talking around the candy, “Hey, remember me? Steve,” he swallows, backing away and tripping over his heels. “I’m the guy who brought you coffee two mornings in a row and has the ability to bring you to a delicious, cheesy burger, fast?”

  You’re inches from him and he yelps, wincing before you even attack, then a shouted, “I’ll pay!”

  Stopping in front of him, you snatch up the package of Red Vines and growl, “And a shake.”

  Robin gapes at the two of you, then looks at Steve, “You brought her coffee? You never bring me coffee.”

  Steve glares at her while he grabs the package of candy back and holds them high above your head, ignoring your protests. 

  “You can have these back when you learn to say please.”

  “Can you pass the salt?” You speak around the fries in your mouth.  

  Steve sits across from you, eyebrows raised. 

  “Please,” you grumble. 

  You shake the salt over the basket sitting between the two of you after he hands it to you. The basket holding the fries he ordered immediately and flashed the waitress a smile and wink for so you got some food fast while you waited for burgers and shakes. 

  He watches your shoulders relax after a few bites, and decides he can attempt conversation, “Better?”

  Your head nods, fingers covering your mouth full of food as you say, “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Steve nods too, looking anywhere but you while you lick salt from your thumb or suck on the straw in your glass of coke. 

  “Glad I could help.” He risks stealing a fry for himself, his stomach grumbling in protest as it watches you eat and it gets nothing. 

  “Sorry,” you fiddle with the straw wrapper in your hands, shrugging, “I know I much more resembled a ravenous wild animal than a normal human being back there.”

  “Glad you said it,” he mutters, ducking when you throw the folded straw wrapper at his face. He catches it, playing with it between his own hands, staring at the table. “You were pretty upset though, what’d you mean about tradition?”

  You shove fries in your mouth, buying time to respond, wondering how much you should tell Steve. 

  “Um,” you cough into your fist, squinting out the window at the sky turning gloomy. 

  “It’s okay,” Steve waves it off, “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me.”

  He shoves fries into his own mouth, right as the waitress brings two burgers over, sliding a strawberry shake onto the sticky tabletop. Steve’s chewing becomes frantic, holding up his hand and you’re saying the words before you can even register what you’re doing.

  “Could he get some extra pickles please?” 

  “Of course, hon,” she sways off, delivering another shake at a different table while Steve blinks at you. 

  “What?” You avoid his intense gaze, looking at your burger as you lift it to your lips. 

  “Didn’t think you were paying that much attention to me,” he finally says, smiling at the waitress when she drops off a small container of pickles. 

He looks at his burger, not you, so maybe that’s why it’s easier to keep talking about it.

  “Kind of make it hard to not pay attention, Harrington.”

  The pair of you sit in silence, chewing your burgers as rain starts to tap softly against the window, the red neon sign next to you flickering and making his yellow tshirt orange. 

  “Wish I knew you were watching sooner,” Steve looks up to find you already staring, “Wouldn’t have acted like such an idiot, maybe this would be a different story.”

  Your heart thuds in your ears, too warm under the softness of his eyes.

  “Acted?” You manage to push past your lips, tilting your head. 

  Steve smiles, and grabs for the shake, waiting for you to protest him putting a second straw into it. When you don’t, you surprise yourself by offering up, “It’s from the night we met.”

  He blinks at you, wrinkle forming between his brows as he sucks on the straw between his lips. You look away from them as you clarify, “Eddie. The diner. It’s a tradition from the night we met.”

  “Oh,” Steve nods, pushing the shake away and returning to his burger, adding another pickle. 

  “Yeah, I,” you close your eyes, then open them to look down at your food, blurting out, “Met him, after I threw that beer. In Brendan’s face. He took me to the diner, here, for pie, and I sort of spilled my guts to him.”

  Steve’s jaw pulses, the furrow of his forehead only deepening as you explain, not lessening. He takes another bite of his burger, ketchup smearing against the side of his mouth, offering you a reprieve from staring at his lips as he speaks around his bite, “Got it. That’s when you guys started dating, right?”

  You blink, lips parting but nothing comes out other than a shocked, “Ha!”

  Steve looks up at the scoff, taking in your wrinkled nose and how your eyes stare at his lips as you laugh, “Eddie…Ed,” you giggle, “No.”

  “You and…never?” Steve sits up straighter, eyes bouncing between your own. 

  “Not even a little bit,” you laugh, touching your lip, “You’ve got…”

  Steve swipes at his lips while he asks, “But you said you spilled your guts, I just assumed after what that asshole said and did that Munson like comforted and you and…”

  He trails off as you lean forward, rolling your eyes. 

  Your thumb swipes over the corner of his lip as you shrug, “Yeah, we bonded over assholes and crushing on people who’d never give us the time of day while sharing cherry pie. Best friends ever since.”

  Steve’s heart thrums as your fingers linger on his jaw, before you sit back again.

  And then you lick the ketchup off of your thumb. 

  He finally stumbles over the words, “I love pie.”

  “Yeah?” You grin, grabbing the shake.

  Steve nods, keeping eye contact as your cheeks hollow around the straw. But then he rolls his shoulders back and grabs the shake out from your lips and back across the table.

  “Except cherry. You’re delusional for choosing that over lemon.”

  “You’re delusional,” you yank the shake back towards you, “If you think you’re having any more of this.”

  Steve leans over the table as you begin to sip the shake again, only to wrap his lips around the second straw, noses bumping as he tries to drink it faster than you at the same time. 

  Your feet are intertwined under the table as you push at his shoulder and he tugs on the glass, both of you making a slurping noise as you get to the bottom, then grabbing at your temples from brain freezes while laughing.

  “I can’t stand you,” you push the glass towards the middle of the table. 

  “That’s better than detest, I’ll take it.”

    Hawkins, Indiana - Thursday

  Steve holds out the bag of popcorn to you, and you grin, taking some as you lean into him, a little tipsy, in the backseat of his car. 

  You, because you were last out to the car, and Steve, because he doesn’t do well in the front seat when Robin is driving. 

  Which is saying something, because Eddie isn’t doing so hot as it is.

  “No, Buckley!”

  “Give me a break, Eddie! It is super dark outside, and I’m a new driver, never attempted driving in the rain, and I don’t know wiper speed to rain droplet ratio!”

  You snort, nose in the popcorn bag as your shoulders shake. 

  Steve shushes you, mumbling, “You’re kind of a menace tonight.”

  “Eddie’s,” you hiccup, blinking up under heavy eyelashes at Steve’s profile, mesmerized by the freckles that dot it, “Fault. Got me all that beer.”

  “No comments-” Robin begins to talk over her shoulder.

  “Ba-ah-ah,” Steve points forward, stepping on an invisible brake in the backseat while Eddie grabs her chin and keeps it locked straight ahead.

  “From the peanut gallery,” she finishes loudly.

  “No peanuts back here,” you throw a piece at Eddie’s ear, “Just popcorn!”

  Steve remains facing forward, watching intently as Eddie directs Robin on slick roads towards her house. “You didn’t have to drink it all.”

  “Oh,” you sigh, sliding over to the window and pressing your forehead against the cool glass, “But I did, Harrington. For I am the champion of bowling night!”

  He opens his mouth, but you sit up straight again, and press your finger to his lips, softly saying (but thinking you’re singing), “No time for losers.”

  Steve smiles behind your finger, eyes soft and melting you a little. 

  Which you almost say out loud, but the song on the radio grabs your attention. You squeal, which makes Robin jump, which makes the car sway and Steve grab your shoulders, pushing you back on the seat as you yell, “Turn it up!”

  “You’re such a loser,” Eddie grumbles, but does as you request. 

  Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes plays a little louder, but no one can tell, because you’re loudly singing over him.

Eddie rolls his eyes at the way Steve watches you, and Robin bites her lip, fighting back laughter as you shout, “You all love this song, don’t lie to me!”

  You scream into your fist, dramatically singing, tossing your head, pointing at each of them. 

  “And all my instincts,” you take a deep breath and whip over to Steve, kneeling on the seat, “They return!”

  You shove your fist into Eddie’s face, who pretends to bite it, refusing to sing. But finally melts at your pout, mumbling along with you, “Without my pride.” Robin happily joins in, in a high falsetto, when you whip your fake microphone over to her, “I reach out from the inside.”

  As they all join in with you for the chorus, you fall backwards, laughing, catching Steve’s eyes. 

  You’d like to blame the beer, the cozy dark backseat, the way Steve smells, the rain, the fucking song. And while you can’t blame them for something that was inevitable, you can pretend that without this specific combination you never would have. 

  If you were sober, and In Your Eyes came on, you never would have touched the two freckles on Steve’s cheek, your fake microphone falling limp, palm flat against his chest. 

  If it weren’t dark, and he didn’t smell so good, you never would have let those same fingers drag down his jaw, only to linger on his lips. 

  And if it weren’t raining, and Robin hadn’t taken a second to look back in her mirror and say, “Holy shi-“

  It never would have happened. 

  Eddie shouts, Robin screams, and something heavy and warm is on top of you as the car spins on the water that’s flooded the streets. 

  Your ears are ringing, muffled words lost in the sound, and you can’t move, something holds you down. 

  It takes a second to realize the car isn’t moving anymore, and there’s hands on your cheeks. When your eyes blink open, there’s golden hazel ones that remind you of a scared boy looking at you intently.

  “Are you okay?” He gasps from on top of you where you’re both horizontal in the backseat now.

  “I’m fine,” Robin says sarcastically from the front seat, “Thanks for-“ Eddie shushes her.

  “Of course,” you grumble, hands that were clutched in Steve’s shirt loosening and pushing at him.

  His hands shake on your cheeks, fingers touching a spot on your forehead that has you wincing and his chest moving up and down faster.

  “Harrington,” you push at him more, his hand cups your cheek, eyes turning glassy as you insist, “I’m fine, get off.”

  “Hey,” you shake his shoulder as stares at your forehead, breathing harder still, “Harrington, relax. We’re all fine.”

  The side of his face flashes with red and blue, his heartbeat thuds against your chest as his breathing continues to ramp up. Your hands cup his jaw, thumbs delicately swiping over his cheeks. 

  “Steve. Look at me.”

  His shoulders shake with a stuttered breath and then his hand quickly reaches forward, gently cupping the back of your head as the door behind you opens. 

  Someone speaks, but neither of you hear them, eyes remaining on each other as you whisper, “Take a deep breath, Steve. Please?”

  You nod as he does, your hands loosening on his cheeks as he starts to let his weight hover over you instead of pushing you down. 

  A voice from behind you asks Steve to get out first. He’s held back as paramedics help you out of the car and lead you over to the back of the ambulance. Robin stands next to you and you shake your head, the words I’m so sorry easily able to read off of your lips and Robin stops them with her hand up. 

  Eddie stands next to him, watching, just as intently, and he clears his throat. 

  “That was…” he starts, looking at Steve, then back at you, now getting your forehead looked at. “Glad you were back there, man.”

  Steve nods, numb, as he watches you wince and say, “I’m fine,” to the EMT stitching you up. His fingers graze down the bridge of his nose and his swipes underneath it, nodding when Eddie says he’s gonna go check on Robin. 

  Everyone is fine, save for your head injury. His car is fine, save for a ding on the back bumper.

  Your side. 

  He saved you.

  He protected you. 

  He was scared for you. 

  Your heartbeat picks up as your gaze on the wet asphalt beneath your scuffed sneakers catches bright Nike’s approaching. 

  “How’s the patient?” 

  Steve’s voice is soft, scared, not a thing like you’ve ever heard before. 

  Which is maybe why when you look up at him, nothing comes out of your parted lips.

  Rain drips from the tip of Steve’s hair, curling around his ears, a droplet caught on his cupid’s bow, darkening the green shirt he wears. 

  The EMT stares down at you, waiting, then she smiles, staring at your forehead as she offers, “She’ll be okay. No concussion, probably a little sleepy from the pain meds she just took, but overall just a little dinged up. Nothing a little night of tender loving care from her boyfriend can’t fix.”

  “Oh, no, I’m-“

  “He’s not, we’re not-“

  Steve and you talk at the same time, stopping when the other speaks. 

  “Oh, my mistake,” she hums. She looks down at you as she inspects her last stitch, smiling softly, “Well, maybe some tender loving care from a friend then. Can I count on you handsome? Get her home safely?”

  Steve nods, cheeks pink as he waits for you to stand, his hand resting by your elbow just in case, then hovering near your lower back as he walks behind you towards his car. 

  “Dingus!” Robin shouts from Hopper’s truck. 

  Steve turns to look at her, and as he holds the door open for you, he leans down and murmurs, “I’ll be right back, you’re…you okay?”

  “Mhm,” you nod, blinking from the pain of the movement. 

  Steve doesn’t look like he believes you, but nods, and closes your door softly, running over to the truck, squinting in the rain. 

A soft tap hits the glass of your door and you jump, rolling the window down for Eddie, the boys swapping places without you realizing.

  “Hey sweetheart, how you doing?” He folds his arms on the frame of the door, bent down to take a closer look at your head. 

  “I’m fine,” you answer without thinking.

  Eddie’s lips twitch, fighting the urge for the joke, “Of course you are. You okay with Harrington taking you back? Hopper always can? Need me to stay over?”

  You watch Robin grab Steve’s jaw, pushing and pulling him to inspect him while he rolls his eyes and pushes her off. A much more physical approach, but the same as Eddie’s nonetheless. 

  When you don’t say anything, he follows your gaze and sighs. “Yeah, you’re okay. Fucking hell, I gotta figure out where I’m getting three hundred dollars from, thanks a lot you Peter Gabriel loving dork.”

  “Eddie, I-“ you protest and he waves his hand, smiling.

  “Save it, you’re hook line and sunk for him. You have been since the day I met you, fine.”

  He kisses your temple, opposite of your cut, and taps the hood of the car before jogging over to the truck, swapping with Steve again. But he pauses in the middle, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and pointing at the car, then pats him and jogs off again. 

  Once Steve is back in the car, you wait for him to drive, to say something, but he looks at you expectantly and then you realize-

  Your seatbelt. 

  “Sorry,” you murmur, and then it’s silent. 

  No radio. 

  No talking.

  Just the swish of rain on the pavement under spinning wheels. The rhythmic pit then pat of it hitting his windows, the slosh of the wipers back and forth. Steve’s breathing. 

  You don’t realize you’ve been soothed to sleep from it all, the combination of alcohol and adrenaline fading, until the car is coming to a complete stop, engine off, and your door is being opened. 

  Steve leans over you, unbuckling the seatbelt, whispering, “Come on, trouble.”

  “Mmm,” you protest, eyelashes fluttering, head hitting the headrest with a frown. “Steve.”

  “I know, just a few more minutes then you’ll be in bed, come on.”

  His hands slide into yours, gently pulling you from the car, guiding you towards the stairs. Your lead filled eyelids blink with each step, as you mumble, “Keys.”

  “I got ‘em, come on,” his hand presses to your lower back, then roams higher, pressing lightly when you sigh from the feeling. 

  A door opens, a hand wraps around your waist and a shoulder supports your head. 

  Steve blinks in the low light of your lamp that must be on a timer, taking in your space for the first time. He closes your door, keeping his hand on your waist to steady you as you sway while he bends down. 

  He watches you, as he unties a sneaker, patting your ankle as he quietly says, “Lift your leg up for me, honey.”

  You do as you’re told, blinking down at the boy who gently removes your shoe, then the other as you rest your hands on his shoulders for balance. 

  “Steve,” you gulp around his name, blinking back tears.

  He looks up at his name, frowning as he stands, large hands cradling your jaw as he tuts. “Hey, what’s the matter? What’re these for, huh?”

  His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, catching big tears that spill over your lashes as you blubber, “I’m so so-sorry. Everyone could have been really hurt. I hate Peter Gabriel. I’ll ne-never listen to hi-him again.”

  Steve laughs, and you frown, blinking at him through tears, “It-it’s not funny. Stop laughing at me.”

  He clears his throat, nodding, “Right. It’s not funny.”

  His lips twitch when you frown more, fingers curling around his wrists that still support your cheeks.

  “Bedroom?” He asks softly.

  “Harrington,” you sniffle, eyes rolling, “I hardly think this is the time to try to make a move.”

  He shakes his head, “I meant so I can set you up before I leave, smartass.”

  You point down the hallway, but then sigh, “Can you get me a glass of water.”

  He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly.

  “Please?” you pout your lips out.

  Steve nods towards your bedroom, “Yeah, I can do that.”

  He watches you wander down the hallway, and click on a light in your room, before he heads to your kitchen. As he fills the glass up, he takes the opportunity to glance around at pieces of you he’s not normally let in on. Wondering where certain trinkets are from and what they mean to you. He notices the large collection of vinyl. He grins at the stack of Family Video tapes that are clearly over the rental limit, even for employees. 

  And he’s ready to say something sassy to you about it, when he reaches your room, but you’re already laying in your bed, eyes closed and curled up on your side.

  In his sweatshirt. 

  He sets the glass of water on the nightstand, then lifts your comforter, pulling it over bare legs exposed from small sleep shorts. He leaves a quick note about leaving your front door key in your mailbox. 

  Steve hesitates before clicking off the light, taking in your slow, even breaths, the shadows on your face, peaceful with sleep. 

  He kisses your cheek as he turns off the light, lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than he probably should have. 

  “Goodnight, honey.”

AN: thanks for your patience in this chapter and the next! This chapter is actually what sparked the core of this whole series, and I’m excited to finally share it with you. It was originally being written in the winter, and the events of this chapter are heavily inspired by a moment that happened between my parents before they were married! My dad and mom were in the backseat of a car, an accident happened, and my dad had leaned over to protect my mom, and she says that's when she knew she was in love with him. Take that for this story however you'd like 🤭 So while it’s not exactly what happened anymore, the essence is still there and I hope you love it, it definitely holds a special place in my heart. Also, I simply can’t help myself from including The Princess Bride in all of my series it seems. Thanks for being here!

BICFTF Taglist: thank you for your support!

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[w2soneshots]

Confess -W2S

words: 1.1k+

warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, hospital, injury, car accident, worrying.

summary: when you fall in love with your best friend you struggle to keep your feelings at bay then Harry gets into an accident and it changes everything.

notes: hello my loves! Here is the request🫶🏼. This is like nothing I’ve ever written before so I hope you enjoy🤭💓

Tonight I'm going to a club with the boys and the side girls for a night out. It was Freya's last minute idea since we haven't been with each other as a group in so long. I was slightly nervous since I knew Harry was going to be there. I've had a crush on him since last year. There wasn't a specific moment that I realised but when I found myself constantly thinking about him and his big blue eyes I knew there was a problem.

I tried to convince myself that I didn't like him but eventually I accepted that I had a crush on one of my best friends. We've grown apart the past year due to me not wanting to be within two feet of him, worried that I'll do something I'll regret.

I invited Faith round to my apartment for pre drinks. Once she arrived I poured us both a drink and turned the music on. She helped me figure out what I was going to wear then after a few finishing touches we left. When we arrived outside of the club I took a deep breath. "You alright?" Faith asked with furrowed brows. "Mhm." I hummed then hopped out of the uber.

Thankfully Harry hadn't arrived yet so I got myself a drink. When I made my way back to the table I noticed that in the five minutes I'd been gone Harry and Freezy had arrived. It felt so weird to be nervous around him, we've been friends for so long and I've always felt so... safe when I'm with him. "Hey! y/n, how've you been?" Freezy asked. I smiled politely. "Great thanks." I sat down next to Talia.

After almost an hour of avoiding Harry I left to use the toilet. "Wait!" I turned around swiftly, just as I was about to open the bathroom door. Harry stood before me. I started to panic. I've never felt so strange in my life. Why do I feel like I'm going to explode. "I just- are you ok?" He asked. I looked to the floor. "I'm fine." I replied, swiftly pushing myself into the bathroom.

I took a deep breath once the door closed. "What the fuck is wrong with me?! I need fresh air." I thought. I made my way outside after freshening up and I let the cool air wash over my body. "I can't continue like this. I need to talk to Harry." I told myself. But first I need to get a little more drunk. When I returned to the table Talia began asking me where I'd been. I told her I wasn't feeling great so went to get some fresh air. She didn't look like she fully believed me but she let it go.

Later in the night once I was extremely drunk I decided it was time to talk to Harry. I took a deep breath then walked over to the bar where he stood next to Ethan. I tapped him gently on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you?" I asked him softly. He nodded quickly. I led him outside. "Ok so-" my words slowly cut out as he stepped towards me, so close I could smell the mixture of cologne and alcohol lingering on his body. "Can I kiss you y/n?" He asked. My breath hitched. I leaned closer. "Yes. Please." I whispered. Slowly his lips touched mine and everything finally felt complete.

After that night I didn't hear a word from him. I was upset but assumed that he didn't remember since we were so drunk or that he thought it was a mistake. But I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. It was sweet but desperate. Slow yet fast. Soft yet rough. I tried desperately to forget and move on but I just couldn't.

Almost two weeks after that night I was headed to my car after a long day at work when I got a call from Freezy. "Hello?" I answered, confused. "y/n, hi. Um- Harry's in the hospital." He told me quickly. My eyes widened. "I- what- Is he ok?!" I frantically ran towards my car. "He's ok but he's asking for you." "Me?" I stopped as I opened the car door. "Yes. Are you on your way?" He asked. "Mhm. I'll be there in ten."

When I arrived outside of the hospital I quickly parked then practically jumped out of the car. I made my way towards the reception desk and gave Harry's name. The woman nodded politely then showed me to his room. "Just in there." She said sweetly. I smiled lightly. "Thank you." She walked away and I stared nervously at the closed door. I took a long, deep breath. "He's fine. Everything's fine." I attempted to silently reassure myself. Before I could contemplate any more I pushed the door open.

Harry sat on a hospital bed with a few machines hooked up to him and a large bruise on his forehead. My mouth dropped open. "Oh my fucking god! I thought Cal said you were fine!" I rushed towards him. "I am." He reassured quietly. "You're clearly not! What the fuck happened?" "I- I was hit by a car." He looked into my eyes. A look of complete shock graced my features. "Hit by a car?!" "Uh, yeah. It was only a bump but I fell and knocked my head on the pavement. I think I passed out, it's all kind of a blur." My eyes fluttered closed. "Why am I here Harry?" I asked, eyes still shut.

It was silent for a second before he finally spoke. "Because I- I realised that if I had been really hurt today I would've regretted not telling you that... that I- I love you y/n." My eyes shot open. "You what?" My voice came out much quieter than I expected. "I love you. I've loved you for years. And I haven't stopped thinking about you since that kiss." "You remember?" "How could I not?" He pushed himself from the hospital bed. "Why- why didn't you say anything? No call, no text, nothing." I stepped back. "Because I thought you didn't remember." He replied.

I sighed, looking down at my feet. "I love you too." I whispered, barely believing that I was saying those words out loud. A tear slipped down my cheek. I wasn't sure if it was because I was nervous, stressed or happy but I didn't have time to think before I felt two strong arms wrap around my figure. I burst into floods of tears as I clung onto him. "I was so worried." I squeaked out. "I'm sorry." He whispered. I pulled away slowly with a sniffle. "I'm glad you're okay." "Me too because if I wasn't I wouldn't be able to do this." He placed his hand on the top of my back as our lips connected for the second (but definitely not last) time.

[sparkchemy]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 2 - Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Artemy's dumb 16yo self on his first day in the Capital not looking both ways because there are no cars in Town-on-Gorkhon. Lucky for him, there was a kind bystander nearby...

(I will make these prompts work, just watch me xD)

@whumperless-whump-event

[simply-whump]

Love Next Door : Episode 3

[where-is-my-whump]

+bonus😏

The Mentalist 5x08

[grendel-menz]

The way bruises progress is so cool

[joansiefics]

Bucky -

could you write something about Bucky's daughter getting in a car accident with friends and shes the only one that makes it and she calls bucky because she's scared and hurt...so bucky and steve come to the scene and helps/

Everyone makes mistakes:

DAD!BUCKY X DAUGHTER!READER

WARNINGS: Underaged drinking, car accident, death. Please let me know if I missed anything :)

A/N: Alright, so if you have seen my last post (like a year ago), I said that I will be solemnly posting stories on Wattpad. It went great, but kinda went downhill after a while - I became busy with school and when I had the time I just couldn't get myself to write something. But then like a week ago, I logged into my Tumblr account, and I missed the feeling of writing something down and being creative (because all I do now is study math and physics and that's not really being creative), so I thought why not start writing the requests that I never wrote?? So yeah, here is the first one in a while :)

MARVEL MASTERLIST || BUCKY MASTERLIST || PROMPT LIST

REQUESTS are now OPEN

ADD yourself to my TAGLIST

I didn’t want to get into the car. I told them that like 20 times already, but do you expect drunk-out-of-their-mind people to listen to you - the “deadbeat” of the group, because you don’t like alcohol?

I used to like alcohol. LOVED it in fact. Until my dad had to come bail me out of jail, after a party had gone wrong. It wasn’t entirely my fault – I didn’t know the house wasn’t really the host’s house, but rather someone’s who was on vacation. The neighbors heard the music and yelling as our team won bear pong and called the police. When the police arrived, I was too drunk to register anything going on and some friends, my friends were – ran away without me and left me to be the only one to get arrested.

A few hours in jail can really help you sober up quickly, trying to gather your thoughts, because what are you going to tell your dad? Not even an hour later, my dad came to bail me out and I swore (while resting my head on the toilet seat and my dad holding my hair back) to never drink a sip of alcohol again if I could help it. Now I know most people say that, and the following night they’re at the new bar drinking like there’s no tomorrow – that wasn’t me: I declined the parties my “friends” invited me to and started spending more time with my dad – he is actually a really cool guy. This continued for a few weeks until my “friends” told me they didn’t want anything to do with me anymore, because I’ve changed. I have to say, I was truly happy with their decision.

I made new friends and was able to stick to my “no-drinking-promise” – but it became difficult because apparently you can’t have friends that don’t drink, leading to the predicament I find myself in at this very moment.

“Y/N will you just get in the freaking car?! We don’t have all night”.

“I’ve told you 20 times, now 21, I’m not getting into the car with you. You can’t even walk in a straight line!”

“Just GET IN!” My dad might be a super-soldier, but that doesn’t mean I inherited the strong gene, so it was rather easy for John (one of my friends) to man handle me into the back, squashing me against the left side window, as the rest of our friends piled in next to us. I prayed, I really prayed that I’d get home safe.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I drive? I know I only have my learners license, but you guys are accompanying me, so it’s not like I’m breaking the law. It’s better than all of us dying because you were drunk and driving”.

“I am fully capable of driving this car, Y/N” Melany said from the driver’s seat. I decided to shut my mouth and let her focus on the road, she didn’t need me and the alcohol distracting her.

“Turn up the music!!” Ethan yelled and everyone thought to cheer him on, as if he had said the coolest thing on earth.

“Don’t you think we should let Melany focus on the road, and maybe be quiet?” I suggested.

“Will you stop being such a deadbeat for once in your life, Y/N?” This time it was Sarah who spoke. She was the perfect student that everyone looked up to – perfect grades, happy family, rich parents, beach houses… you name it; but only we knew that it was all a façade – she studied day and night as an escape from her mom being permanently drunk and her dad permanently working. I guess that’s why her comment didn’t bother me as much as it should have, she is merely living out the life that was presented to her as an example.

“I’m sorry” I apologized.

We haven’t even been driving for more than five minutes, when Melany spoke again. “What is that bright light? It’s hurting my eyes, make it stop” she whined. Apparently drunk people are like insects attracted to light, because all my friends stared at the light in awe.

At first I wasn’t interested, I just rolled my eyes and stared out the window.

“Oh look, the light is moving towards us” Melany squealed, earning another eye roll from me, but I have to admit the curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see what was so fascinating about a stupid light.

I wish I never looked – with the looking came the honking of a truck’s horn – a signal to move out of the way. But have you ever Googled what happens when people drink too much? My dad made me Google it the night he came to bail me out of jail; he forced me to read all the bad things that could happen to you when drinking irresponsibly – slowed reflexes, no filter for words spewing out of your mouth and sometimes even alcohol poisoning.

Right now, not even a horn could quicken Melany’s reflexes. Before I could even think of a plan to get her to swerve out of the way, the truck collided with us. Head on. We were flipping. Rolling. Flipping. Rolling. And flipping some more. When we finally came to a stop, I couldn’t see for a few seconds – everything was dark and blurry. It probably took me a few minutes to come to a realization of what just occurred.

“Okay Y/N. What would dad do in this situation?” I didn’t know what he would do and even if I did, I probably wouldn't be able to accomplish it. “Guys?” Silence. “Guys!” More silence. I didn’t like the silence – it made me hear my own heartbeat drumming in my ears. We were on a deserted road, little to no lampposts and no one ever driving down this road at this hour. I didn’t even know if the truck driver was alive, called the ambulance or just… drove away.

I slowly moved my arm, feeling pain shoot up into my shoulder, but I had to get a hold of my phone. Feeling my phone in my pocket, I just prayed it would still work. Slowly pulling it out, trying not to cause more pain to my shoulder, I saw the screen light up, and I could have cried tears of joy.

I didn’t want to call the police or the ambulance – I only wanted my dad. I pressed speed dial and not even 5 seconds later I heard my dad’s voice.

“Hey doll, where are you? I thought you would be home by eleven?”

“I-“ I didn’t know what to tell him. “I- uhm”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Hey, you promised never to call me Y/N unless I was in trouble” I tried to joke, maybe let out a laugh to let him know that I was okay and not busy bleeding somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Of course he heard the airy laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear my heart beating like I could.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“In trouble?”

“Have a little faith in me dad. I told you I’m not going to drink, and I stuck to my promise” I rasped out.

I heard some laughing in the background. “I’m sorry, am I disrupting you?”

“No, not at all, doll. Steve just came to hang out for a bit. But stop changing the subject, if you’re not in trouble, why are you calling me when you should have been home already?” I probably had to speed up the conversation, because I could feel myself getting dizzy, there was something wet dripping down my shoulder and forehead and no one was making a noise – I just hoped they’d be alive.

“Well, you see… uhm”.

“Spit it out. Do I have to come bail you out again? Because I swear Y/N I will…”

“I need you to come get me” I tried to stop the wobble in my voice, but it was useless. “I promise dad… I told them I didn’t want to, but they forced me and they were drunk and – and they’re not waking up and - “ a big sob escaped my mouth and I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“What did they force you to do, Y/N?”  I could hear the panic in my dad’s voice. I heard him call Steve and I heard Steve’s worried voice ask what was wrong.

“Y/N, you need to breathe and tell me where you are so we can come get you” I focused on my breathing, trying to get myself to keep calm and get as comfortable as possible. I tried wiping the wetness of my forehead, that kept bugging me, but I caught the sight of crimson smudged on my hand. Stupidly, I smacked the same hand over my mouth to stop the scream from pouring out, but my dad heard the muffled scream.

“Doll, breathe. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me”.

“I – there’s blood!” I wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“Y/N, answer me damnit! Where are you?”

“I don’t know” I was trying so hard to get air into my lungs. “We were driving back home from the party – “

“We… I… we’re on an abandoned road, there are almost no lampposts, there are no houses, there…” That’s all I know” I cried out, because how were they going to find me if I didn’t even know where I was.

Dad’s voice came from the other side. “We’ll search in the perimeters of the party’s address.”

“Please don’t hang up!”

“I’m going to hand the phone over to Steve, I have to focus on the road. Just keep talking to him, sweetheart.”

“We’ll be there soon, honey. Ten minutes, tops” Steve tried to ease my nerves.

I didn’t speak to any one of them after that, but it comforted me, knowing that they were there, just a call away and maybe just a few minutes away.

Eight minutes later, Steve said he was going to hang up and I cried and pleaded with him not to but got interrupted by the “end call” button. Before I could even think about cursing him out, or being mad at him and my dad, I heard my name being called.

“Here!” Was all I could seem to manage, but luckily they heard me. “Steve come help me get her out!” Soon Steve was forcing the door open and holding it as my dad, gently pulled me out of the wreck and into his chest.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re alive.” My dad whispered in my ear, gently swaying me side-to-side. Sobs wracked my chest and the tears couldn’t stop flowing – my dad didn’t seem to care that his shirt was a mess of blood and tears.

“My – my friends”

My dad and Steve surreptitiously looked at each other until my dad nodded for Steve to get them out of the car. I think they knew something I didn’t, because when they were all safely outside the wreck, Steve had a confirmed look on his face as he searched for a pulse at each of them but didn’t find a single one.

“No! They’re fine, feel again!” I yelled at Steve. He wasn’t a doctor; he couldn’t call time of death.

“Y/N, doll, listen to me, Steve already checked – “

“ – Well he should check again! He’s wrong!”

To settle my mind, Steve searched for a pulse at each of them and once again turned to look at me with a sad smile.

“No. NO! No, no, no…” My “no’s” were getting quieter and my knees were getting weaker. “no, no…no” the last “no” came out chocked, and my dad caught me as my knees finally buckled and we sank to the floor. I couldn’t take the weight of their death. They were my friends, and even though they made some stupid decisions tonight, they didn’t deserve this. Everyone makes mistakes every once in a while. My dad ran his hand up and down my back, trying to ease some warmth and calmness into my skin and bones.

“Doll, I’m gently going to pick you up and take you to my car”.

“My shoulder. My friends” I kept seeming to forget my friends were dead.

“I’ll be careful of your shoulder. We’ll get it checked out and fixed at home. Right now, I just need you need to breathe with me. Focus on my breathing and everything will be sorted out. You don’t need to worry your head about anything right now, except breathing”

“My friends”

“We’ll get someone to come and get them. I promise”

My dad gently laid me down on the backseat of his car and a few moments later he got into the driver’s side and Steve got in next to me. Unfortunately, when my dad started the car, I was panicking. “No, I don’t want to be in a car. Please! Dad, don’t drive, I’m begging you!”

Steve gently scooted closer to me and enveloped me into a hug, I didn’t even realize we were driving, until we got home. Steve carried me out of the car as my dad ran ahead of us, opening the front door, grabbing blankets, and throwing them onto the couch. Steve gently put me down on the couch, but told me to keep sitting up, because they needed me to stay awake. Apparently, I can’t do that when I’m laying down.

My dad already called one of the doctors (while we were driving) from the infirmary to come check on me and do everything that he deemed necessary. My dad plopped himself down next to me, getting ready to keep me awake until the doctor gave orders that I could close my eyes.

After five minutes of the doctor’s presence, I decided that I didn’t like him. He kept telling me to “keep those eyes open” and “don’t fall asleep on me now”, while prodding at my injuries. Then he decided that pulling out the glass in my shoulder and stitching the wound up, was absolutely necessary and then he thought that shining the brightest light of all time in my eyes, would make me happy. My dad held my hand the entire time – gave it a squeeze when I winced or rubbed his thumb up and down when I squeezed my eyes shut due to the pain.

When the doctor finally left, my dad used a washcloth to wipe some sweat and dirt from me and handed me my pyjamas. He didn’t want to leave me alone for in case I felt dizzy (because the doctor said that’s what concussions can do), so he just turned around and kept his hand outstretched towards me, so I’d have something to grab onto if I felt like falling.

Afterwards, he helped me lay down under the covers and gently tucked me in as Steve brought me some biscuits, water and painkillers. It was difficult to fall asleep after everything that had happened tonight, but my dad reassured me that we’d take it day-by-day, one step at a time.

He would be there when I had to attend my friends’ funerals. He’d be there when I had to go for my check-up appointment at the doctor that wouldn’t let me sleep. And he’d be there when the terrible nightmares woke me up from my slumber.

--------------------------------------------------------

TAGLIST:

@buckyzzrogers @buckyandstevesbitch @ooopsthiswasnotsupposedtohappen @marvelouslyriddikulus @yliumy

[charlibooboo]

The ground is cold, small stones on the bitumen digging into his cheek. Blood drips across his side, clinging to his clothes and his skin. From where he can see, a few people run over towards him, shouting. Nearby, a car has swerved off the street, a buckle in the hood and the windscreen smashed. The driver is sitting on the curb with a few other people, her eyes glazed and unfocused, a cut on her eyebrow. Charlie grunts; his wings are...

Oh.

He screams, his talons digging into the road. Pain ripples up and down the muscles in one of them, the other numb and almost feeling dislodged from its socket. Every part of his body burns with agony..

Someone kneels down beside him, saying that the paramedics are on their way. Frantic voices all muffle and morph together over his head like something horrific, hands touching his back and brushing his wings which only make him sob against the ground and whine. The pain, the adrenaline, the confusion, it's all too much. Charlie feels his consciousness slipping away into darkness, wishing that at least someone he knew was here right now.

@that-punk-from-brooklyn, @james-barnes-wintersoldier

//Angst time ehhe-

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Meeting Jasper

Jasper Masterlist

Y/N drove down the highway, forest on either side of her for miles. It was pitch black out, with out even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate anything. She had her high beams on, but it didn’t help much. Suddenly, a deer jumped out into the road. Y/N swerved, slamming on the breaks. The deer leapt away to safety. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, about to put her foot back on the gas when another, much larger car slammed into her from the other lane. The sound of metal-on-metal assaulted Y/N’s ears. Her car skidded, right into a tree. Y/N’s head hit the steering wheel, and she was out. The offending driver raced off, engine revving as it surpassed the speed limit.

…

Jasper made his way through the woods, looking for his dinner when he heard it. A terrible, loud scraping metallic sound. His red eyes widened, his head turning to the source of the noise. He scuttled over, seeing a car wrapped around a tree on the other side of the road. Looking both ways, Jasper quickly crept across the road. He examined the interior, seeing a girl in the driver’s seat, nearly unconscious. Jasper bit his lip, he knew his kind and humans didn’t mix well, mostly because of the latter’s fear of the former, but he couldn’t just leave her. She had a nasty cut on her head, possibly from the broken glass everywhere.

…

Y/N stirred to the feeling of being rocked gently, and the sound of footsteps moving quickly. She blinked her eyes open and looked up, trying to make something out aside from the splitting pain in her head. Upon perceiving this pain, she groaned quietly.

“Shh,” a voice soothed, “you’re alright. I know it hurts, but I’m going to help you.”

The paramedics must have found her, that would explain why there were so many footsteps- it must be a whole team. Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord.

…

When Y/N woke properly, she felt a gentle pressure on her head, and surprisingly, very little pain. She had been laid down on a soft surface, and she heard someone rummaging through something. She opened her eyes and sat up, though the action sent a wave of dizziness through her.

“Huh?” she mumbled.

Instead of an ambulance or a hospital room, she seemed to be in some kind of cave. On every wall of the cave, there were giant spider webs. Lanterns hung from some of the webs, illuminating the space with a dim glow. She looked down and noticed that she was laying in some kind of web hammock.

“HUH!?” she repeated, much more panicked this time.

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice echoed.

Y/N whipped her head around (ouch) and saw something from her nightmares. The upper half of a human… with the lower half of a giant spider. Y/N couldn’t help what happened next… she screamed. A loud, ear-splitting shriek while she attempted to clamber out of the hammock. Unfortunately, she only managed to tangle herself up in it.

The creature held its clawed hands up in a placating gesture. It stepped over the first aid kit it had been rummaging through, and approached Y/N slowly.

“My name is Jasper,” the creature said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/N’s breaths came in short gasps. There were many things in this world she was prepared to deal with, but spiders- especially human-spider hybrids- were not one of them. She tried to wrangle herself out of the hammock, but her leg was quite caught up.

“Please stop, you’ll rumple your bandages and pull your stitches,” Jasper said gently.

Bandages? Y/N put a hand to her head. Those weren’t bandages- those felt like thick, stringy webs! There was more webbing on her arms and legs. She was going to be spider-dinner! Y/N continued to struggle, as Jasper inched closer and closer. Eventually, he closed the distance between them and gripped her by the shoulders. Y/N froze in fear.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t have you hurting yourself,” Jasper sighed, “hold still.”

Jasper tilted Y/N’s neck and bit right into it, depositing his venom into her system. Y/N’s breath hitched; she immediately lost feeling in her entire body. Her breaths still came in short and fast, but she couldn’t scream anymore- she couldn’t move anymore!

“There, now let me have a look at you.”

Jasper examined Y/N’s web wrappings and tutted. Red seeped through the one wrapped around her head.

“I’ll have to redo the stitches,” he sighed.

Jasper untangled the hammock and laid Y/N back inside it. He went to the first aid kit and grabbed a needle and thread, returning to her. He pulled off the webbing on Y/N’s forehead and hissed in sympathy.

“Looks pretty bad,” he said, “I do wish you hadn’t panicked.”

Jasper made short work of the cut, stitching it back up neatly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Y/N whimpered as the needle slid in and out of her skin.

“Shh, all done,” Jasper said, casting his tools aside.

Jasper considered Y/N for a moment.

“I can’t have you running off as soon as the venom wears off,” he thought aloud, “I don’t want to scare you… but…”

Jasper spewed webbing from his mouth and began to wrap Y/N snugly in webbing. By the time he was finished, only her head and neck were exposed. Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes, and she whimpered quietly. Jasper gently laid her back down in the hammock.

“Try to rest,” he said, “I’ve given you painkillers already, but I’ll have more for you in a few hours.”

…

Jasper scurried off to the front of his cave. He paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t just let the poor thing go, she was injured, probably concussed, and he didn’t need her running off to the other humans to tell them all where he lived. He glanced back inside his cave. Well, she was pretty cute… maybe he could keep her?

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[one-time-i-dreamt]

I ran over Elon Musk with a Tesla, then backed up over him so I could apologize.

[aftgficrec]

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see… 

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here 

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

[janicho88]

When It All Falls Apart Masterlist

Y/N Padalecki loved acting on Supernatural.  Working alongside your older brother and your boyfriend, but after ten seasons the guys have chosen to hang up the guns.  Now the three of you are moving on to other projects, but that’s all that needs to change right?  While you have moved to Austin to be closer to your family and boyfriend, Jensen is working elsewhere.  Distance is only the start of your troubles.

Series Warnings-This is the angstiest story I have written. Jensen isn't the best person when the story starts out. Medical Drama, car accident in future chapters.

This is still being written, but about 14/15 chapters are done. Major Thank you to @writercole and @leigh70 for their help with this! 💗

Tag list is open

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

TBD

[valeriesseacrettumbler]

The little accident

Hotch x reader

Summery(barely) - After a minor car accident there maybe some lingering problems that scare the shit out of aaron.

This is a one shot unless some mfs ask for more lol.

WC- 4276

——————————

You knew there wasn’t much time till Aaron picked you up but your already strong procrastination skills paired with the sick lethargic feeling you had made it all the much harder to get out of your cozy nest. 615- it was nice to be able to have breakfast with Aaron but to do so you had to wake up at the crack of dawn. You wrestle yourself out of bed and throw on the clothes you layed out last night. Mornings had never been your strong suit so to make them more doable you took some measures. Always set out your clothes, towel if you were going to shower, and set the coffee maker to have a fresh pot when you walked down stairs.

You were definitely getting sick, the slightly dizzy and sore feeling indicated that. But it wasn’t bad enough to not go into work so you thought you should just tough it out.

Earlier that same week you had been in sunny California on a case. One of the best perks of working for the BAU was the travel. For some agents that was the worst but you didn’t have any real responsibilities in dc that would hold you back. There was max, your massive Akita but you had a fantastic dog sitter. Other than that you could pack up and go at almost any time. On this particular case after a long and tiring investigation, hunt and chase of a particularly violent bank robber you and hotch had gotten into a mild car accident.

————————

“HOTCH”

You yelp

You turn to look too see headlights pouring in through the passengers side window.

Not even 20 seconds had passed since you plowed into the back corner of car you had been chasing. The driver had attempted to pull a u turn in front of you but your vehicles were already too close for Hotch to stop the car fully before clipping the unsubs left fender. With the speed you were going it ended up spinning the car about twice till it was on the edge of the road.

“Are you ok!?”

Your lungs hurt from the sudden pressure of you seatbelt but other than that you were fine.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Ye-“

“HOTCH!”

And that was when another medium sized Sudan plowed into your side of the car, sending your cruiser tumbling down the hill to your left.

For a moment everything went black as your head bashed against the window. Then you were in it, the car came to a stop in a somewhat akward position. Tilted on it side so that you were looking up at Hotch.

As soon as you regained some sort of grip you reach over swiftly to place your two fingers on his neck. He was unconscious but alive and breathing.

“A - Aaron” you don’t mean it to come out as pained as it did.

“mhhh” a small exhale and then a deep groan and Hotch was back.

After further assessment you were genuinely surprised they you both were ok. A tree had come through the window and pinned your waist and right arm. Your ribs hurt wheres the tree had made contact, probably broken. Hotch was cut up but basically fine and so were you.

“Can you move?”

His tone if hushed and concerned so you try to give comfort with your response.

“I just have to move the seat, can you hold this up and I’ll slip out”

Hotch held the tree branches as you clicked your seat back and slipped into the back seat.

You both climbed out of the wreck and turned to get a good look at eachother.

He swiftly steps forward and cocoons you in his arms, you didn’t have enough time to hug back so you settled with your hands tucked onto his chest.

He was leaning into your shoulder and holding you so tightly.

“Thank god your ok”

He whispers.

——————

Both of you were fine, checked out for injuries but emts and sent home. On the plane back Hotch sat with one arm around you for almost the entire flight. He was normally anti-PDA but you could tell how anxious the whole ordeal made him.

Now you were ready and waiting for hotch to show. You decided to meet him at the curb so you walk down. The sun seems a little bright for 630 but the days we’re getting longer.

He pulled in-front of you about 30 second after you walk down your steps.

You hop in, immediately he kisses you on the side of the mouth and the cheak.

“Good morning to you to” you laugh.

“I wouldn’t do that again, think I’m coming down with somthin”

“Hmm too bad I really wanted to do it again.”

Hotch shot you a devilish grin.

“So where do you have in mind this fine morning?”

You knew, whenever he got to chose the breakfast place he picked the same one

“I was just thinking the coffee place”

Moon rise coffee.

Exactly your guess.

He would get 3 eggs with whole wheat toast, bacon and a cup of black coffee.

You already knew that.

The BAU was slow today, which infact was coming to an end. Good thing too beck you were definitely ill. There was a high possibility you had a fever and you felt like you had been punched repeatedly in the chest. There was nothing you could do except hope to sleep it off so you watched the clock and the minute hand crawled by.

457-458–459— and there you go. You leave all your things at our desk only grabbing a small file.

The stairs up to hotches office literally took the life out of you. By the time you were at the top you were panting and sweating.

You finally made it and as you walked in Hotches gaze shot up. It started as happily supprised but quickly turned into a concerning tone.

He got up quickly meeting you in front of his desk where you had already sunk into a chair and were holding out the file limply.

“How are you feeling? I know you said you were getting sick but you look like your in pain.”

You were, your chest ached, head was pounding, it was the worst you’ve felt in a long time.

“Ehh I’ve been better” you say sheepishly

“I’ll be fine after a good sleep, which is why I came to say farewell.” You smile and begin you begin to get out of the chair you had melted into. Hotch quickly reached around his desk to get his bag and then the coat off his chair.

“I’ll come with you” he said as he slipped on one sleeve.

“Really, your going home at a reasonable time?” It was not somthing that happened regularly, he was normally there for about 2 hr after you.

“I thought I should take you home, you really don’t seem ok.”

He seemed genuine in his concern and you know how things this like this really fuck with his ability to be in control so you try not to seem too offended by his insinuation you could not make it home.

“Alright Hotchner, I’ll let you take me home but I don’t think you’ll be safe from the rest of the children out there.” You notion to the rest of the team now gathering in the bullpen before they all leave for the night.

It was harder than it should have been to go from sitting to standing, for about 10 seconds you were so dizzy you couldn’t see but as it passes you started to leave.

Grabbing your things you give a quick nod to the rest of the team and turn to leave.

“Wait your leaving too?” Morgan Looks at hotch and with a giddy tone spits out

“I see your girls got you on normal time now!” The team laughs as hotch shakes his head. He wants to retort but you are already so far ahead he chooses to follow.

Yet in passing his throws in “have a good night guys”

You had done so well up to this point, the bullpen, the elevator, the halls, the car garage but now as soon as you were reaching the car you weren’t doing well at all. There was a tightening in your chest and it was getting hard to breath. Hotch had already slipped into the drivers seat but as you went for the handle you collapsed.

You could not see or hear or move. It was all loud and bright. You thought you heard you name being yelled but at this point you couldn’t respond.

“Y/N!”

Hotch jumped out of the car, bolting to your side as he trys to get any response at all.

“Hey! Hey!” He softly shakes you but to no success.

From what he could see you were shaking, breathing heavy and ragged, and you were burning up.

You can see the panic in his eyes, the pain even though you were barely conscious. He was shaking as his hands slip under your head and knees as he slips you into the passengers seat.

Hotch knew he could get you to a hospital faster than an ambulance could get there. It was only 3 blocks away but it felt like miles. For you and him.

“We’re almost there… just hold on… please.” He was pleading as he reached over to your face. His hands were unnaturally cold because of your fever but his touch helped you feel safe.

At the hospital he grasp onto your hand for as long as they would let him before you were wheeled into the emergency room.

Upon your arival they had asked him so many questions. It was all a blur. Your name, blood type, all about the car accident and even if you were pregnant. He answered the best he could but his mind was going a million miles an hour. He was sweating and shaking and as the doors slammed behind your gurney a wave of nausea slammed into him.

Hotch turned to the waist basket at the side of the check in desk and proceeded to vommit.

A stranger waiting in the lobby came to his side.

“Hey are you alright?”

At this point he was dry heaving and could feel tears boiling up in the back of his eyes.

After a moment he seems to gain back control of his body and try’s to stand

“How about we get you to a seat”

Said the stranger

“Thank you.” Hotch grumbles

——————-

Waiting was the hardest.

At this point the team had come in, they didn’t get the call untill well after they had become heavily intoxicated at their normal bar. When they all did come in hotch didn’t even notice. His head was in his hands, elbows resting on restless legs.

“Hotch!”

“Is she ok?!”

“What happened!?”

He was unresponsive, tied up in his head.

Rossi promptly took the seat next to him and placed a hand on Aaron’s back.

He flinched and looked up swiftly. Rossi could see the redness in his eyes paired with confusion and pain.

Rossi quieted the questions with a

“Give him some room and go ask her” he was pointing to the desk attendant.

The team did as they were told leaving aaron and Rossi alone for a moment.

“Are you ok?” A question no one had asked hotch yet. After a long moment and stiff inhale he responded in a hushed sigh

“I can’t even think Dave…. She was fine, sick but fine and then she was on the ground. They said they couldn’t find a… a heart beat …..”

he paused for a moment taking in a shaky breath. “ I can’t do this again.. I can’t..” he stops as he try’s to gain some composure before he starts crying.

Rossi can see that he is badly holding it together and places his hand on Aaron’s shoulder in a comforting way.

Morgan walked over to where Rossi and hotch were cornered in the waiting room.

“She doesn’t know anything” he scoffs

————

It’s been 2 hours since Aaron carried you into the ER and there was no update. At some point somone had called your brother, the only family you had, but he was over 6 hours away and wouldn’t be there till the next morning. The feeling that you would wake up alone kept Aaron locked into his chair. When he had delicately placed you on the stretcher his hands lingered under you. With Hailey he knew, immediately that it would be the last time he touched her. With you he didn’t know.

He tried to think back to when the last time he kissed you was. That morning. The last time he said he loved you? He couldn’t remember if he had said it after he left you last night. He couldn’t remember! He must have said it within the last couple of days but he couldn’t remember.

That’s what he thought about as he waited.

“Aaron, can I get you a coffee or anything?” Emily asks softly.

“Um sure, black” he was exhausted.

“You got it. Anyone else?”

Morgan and Reid volunteered to come with.

Emotionally the team was struggling. Emily was basically your best friend. You went out with the team almost every weekend as if spending all your time with them wasn’t enough. Morgan loved you like a sister. Reid looked up to you in a way that he didn’t with anyone else. You and Garcia we a little unit, always finishing each other deductions, mainly live had been saved based on your communal quick wit. Rossi was like a father to you even though you would never admit it to his face. JJ, even though you two didn’t always see eye to eye she loved you. They all did.

————

At the 3.5 hour mark a young looking nurse came out of the doors to the ER.

“Y/n L/n?”

As soon as he heard your name Hotch jumped up along with the rest of the team.

The nurse explained how you had suffered from internal bleeding along with a small tear and swelling in the tissue surrounding you heart and that they were still working on stoping the bleeding.

The car accident.

It made his stomach churn. He should have known, he was there. He saw you everyday since. There were small winces here and there like at his dinner table two nights before when you tryed to get out of your chair. He should have pushed you to go to the hospital. He should have.

———

6 hour mark came and went with no updates. Everyone but Hotch Rossi and Emily had gone home to rest. Deciding who would go was harder than it seemed. They all wanted to stay, but Rossi made the decision for them. It was for the best, someone had to go into work tomorrow.

———

11 hours in and the doctor finally came into the lobby.

Rossi and Emily had dozed off but Hotch was wide awake.

His arms were crossed and he was watching the ceiling, lost in thought.

He almost didn’t hear when your name was called. After a dazed second he jumped up again.

Emily woke up immediately but she had to slap Rossi’s stomach with the back of her hand to get his attention.

“It’s just too soon to know” it was a punch in the gut and Aaron could feel the air get sucked out of the room.

The exhausted looking physician explained slowly that you had coded 4 separate times once for 6 and a half minute which has caused your brain to receive very low amounts of oxygen.

They were able to stabilize you but until you woke up there was no way to know the damage done to your brain.

“When can I… when can I see her?”

“She is in the ICU so family can visit now, are you family?”

“YES” Emily chimed in.

Hotch turned to her and with a quick nod she continued.

“He’s her husband”

He wasn’t but with quick thinking on Emily’s part now Aaron could see you.

He was more thankful than Emily could ever know. As the doctor led him to your room he mouthed a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder.

He was almost running as he honed in on your room.

As he cleared the doorway he stoped.

Seeing you lying there with a tube coming out of your mouth, arms, stomach and wires crossed hectically over your chest he felt dizzy. He carefully picked up your hand as he knelt next to your bed.

It was cool and limp as he raised it to his face, kissing your palm as he did so.

“Oh… my love” he tenderly stroked your cheak as a tear fell down his.

——-

On the morning of the 4th day at around 5:14 am you woke up.

There was the sunrise coming up in the window but the light was faint. It was quiet except for the beeping of some machines. The birds are what you hear first though. Slight chirps pour in though an open window.

When you slept, you always left a window open. The only thing that would stop you is below zero temps. Yes, you had only been dating for a month but Aaron had a lot of time to study you before his skills were tested. He noticed your tendency to leave the car windows open and if any office you used on a case had one you would open it.

He opened your hospital room window on the first night.

You weren’t in the icu anymore which was a significant step. The fact that you had slept for 4days wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, the doctor explained. “She lost a lot of blood Mr.Hotchner, the trauma her body is dealing with right now maybe too much for her to handle awake and she just needs some time to heal.”

On the third day they took out the intubation but you still had a nasty drain coming out of your side.

It turns out it was very lucky that Aaron was there. The team made a schedule for him -and you- so that he could also go home to jack.

He was at the hospital from dawn to when he picked Jack up from school. And repeated for the first 3 days but on the 4th he planed to go into work. He wanted to see you one more time before he went back so he got there at around 445. The night staff let him in, federal badges do have a bit of power, and he sat quietly in the chair next to your bed. He was looking at case files that the team have had for 4 day already but he is just getting a chance to look it over.

By 513 he is done with the inicial interview folder and is trying to find the some paperwork he had to sign when he thought he saw something. It was still darkish outside but he swore he saw your hand move.

And then

He saw it again.

Your pale hand grasping for something.

He slid all of the paper off his lap and stood. He shifted over to the edge of your bed when you make a faint groan as he takes your hand, sandwiching it between his.

And your eyes open. Just slightly at first as you get used to the light. And then your staring into his.

He leans in swiftly making you recoil slightly. Trying to not move you as much as he can he only leans in to hug you so that you nesiled your head to his shoulder, you hand coming up to meet his back, just barely touching him. He pulled back after a few moments and kissed you. Your lips were chapped and you barely could muster the energy to kiss back. He sat for a while just kissing you , he pecks the side of your mouth as he pulls away.

“…what… what happened?” Your voice was horse from the intubation.

“You scared the shit out of me that’s what.” He chokes out. You grimace slightly as you start to assess the damage to your body. Everything hurt, your chest, your legs, veins, all of it.

Aaron explained what happened and you express the same confusion he did when he first found you keeled over.

“I was fine… how didn’t I know?” You almost whispered as a tear rain down the side of your exhausted face.

“They said the internal bleeding started very small and it was just eventually too much. They think it was from the car accident.” He paused as he just watched you. Just the fact you were animated in front of him put all his fear and panic on the back burner of his mind. He reached out and brushed your hair to one side of your face.

“… I was so sacred y/n. You died… four times…” his breath became ragged and he looked down at the hand he had of yours.

“I know” your tone is supposed to be comforting but as you breath in a little more deeply than before you shudder. Grasping his hand tighter, looking up at the ceiling as your mouth mimics a small yelp yet no sound emerged. It feels like your chest is on fire. Aaron looked up at your contorted face and quickly reached over to hit the nurses button.

“They should adjust your meds, your shouldn’t be in this much pain.”

The nurse came in and upon seeing you and Aaron a large smile crept across her face.

She had only seen Hotch as his completely heart broken and lost self as he watched you.

“Thank god!” She said in a volume neither of you had prepared for making you both turn to the door and jump back a bit.

She silently apologized for her loudness and began too look over all your readings and chart.

“Agent Hotchner would you mind moving to the chair” she motioned.

He slipped back but he moved the chair even closer to the bed so that they were almost over lapping.

The nurse proceeds to listen to your heart rate.

“She’s in pain, can you give her somthing?”

“Unfortunately we have given her almost all that we can,(she turns to you) your heart is damaged which mean we really can’t put much stress on it or we risk you having a heart attack on us.”

“Mhh” you grunt.

“So there’s nothing, nothing you can do”

You can hear him start to get pissed.

“Aaron it’s fine, I’m alright” you give him the best smile you can muster, which isn’t very convincing. “You don’t want me to have a heart attack after all this do ya.” You let out a short breathy laugh.

He only stairs at you as the nurse starts to leave.

“The doctor will be in at about 6 but from what I can see your doing well, is there anything i can do to make you more comfortable. Raising your head might release some of the pressure in your chest.”

You nod swiftly. that’s all you wanted.

She began to tilt the bed so you were slightly sitting. The release of pressure on your lungs and chest resulted in a small gasp for you as your breath deepened.

Even though your eyes were closed you could feel his focused on you. It only took one or two slightly pained breaths for your rhythm to become even. You did sound better than when you were horizontal.

The nurse left quicky afterwards, at this point it was 545, and hotch knew Rossi would be awake. There was no way he was going into work. Absolutely no chance he would leave you now that your finally awake and he could breathe again. He just needed some time to fully process that your alive and seemingly ok. He quickly shot Rossi a text “ she’s awake, I’m not coming in”

“So what have I missed?” you ask in a slightly raspy voice motioning to the mess of papers on the ground with a slight jesture from your Iv covered hand.

Aaron let’s out an emotionless laugh and looks at the floor for a quick second before joining your eyes.

“It hasn’t even been an hour and you already want to talk about work?”

“I will talk about anything Aaron,” you say defeated. You just wanted to hear his voice, hold his hand and… sleep. It seemed odd how tired you for how long you had just slept.

“, please just talk” you can feel your impulse to cry is peeking through. He can hear it in your voice.

He has been so worried about your physical condition he hasn’t even thought of the damage it had done to your mind. You were scared out of your mind and in pain.

He knew how to comfort you through words.

“Ok my love, ok.” He kissed your hand and began describing the case the files scattered on the floor held.

Everyonce in a while you would ask a question like “ what did the ME say?” Or “ do you beleive him?” Just like at the round table in the bau. Now you just had to close your eyes and imagine it.

There was a smile across hotches face, he explained more as he picked up and read the folders.

Eventually you fell asleep.

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2023

Day 22 - Vehicular Accident

MacGyver 4x03

@whumptober @whumptober-archive