#or yelling at me for wearing my knee stabilizing brace too much when it would hurt

[dredshirtroberts]

oh *now* she wants me to see a doctor about my joints doing things joints don't normally do.

bit late ma.

[marjansmarwani]

I want ours to be an endless song

5.9k || ao3

“You can’t die on Christmas” + hurt for Day 5 of @911christmasweek2020

——

TK figures that working on Christmas Eve will be nice, he’ll get to spend the day with his team and maybe even get to see his boyfriend on a call. It starts out like that too - until an incident in the field forces him to confront one of his biggest fears and threatens to change everything for good. Despite everything: all his training and years of experience, all he can do is wait and hope for a Christmas miracle; for anything that will save him from losing the best thing he has ever had.  

Thanks as always go to @officerrxyes for both creative input (get yourself a friend who will discus the technicalities of a scene at length with you) and editing. There were multiple times during the writing when I said that I shouldn’t be allowed to write Christmas things (it gets pretty sad/angsty) but it has a happy ending, I swear! 

------

TK didn’t mind working on Christmas, really. 

Working the Christmas Eve shift meant that he was guaranteed to spend the holiday with his dad and his team. They were his family and he wouldn’t have liked to spend the holiday any other way. The only one missing was Carlos, but he knew his boyfriend was also working today. Which left him being torn between hoping for a nice, calm shift or for a small non—life threatening emergency just so he could see Carlos. 

It was a dilemma he kept to himself. He loved his team, but there was no way they would let that particular thought pass by without comment. 

The decision was made for him just as they were settling in for the night. The others groaned when the alarms went off but TK couldn’t quite contain his grin at the possibility of seeing Carlos. 

Unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re unbearable,” Judd groaned as they piled into the rig.

“What?” 

“You know what. Could we have one call without you two not making heart eyes at each other?” 

“I think it’s cute,” Marjan interjected, but there was an edge of teasing in her tone. 

TK rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I know if he is going to be there. I have no control over which calls the police end up on.” 

As he spoke, the dispatcher’s voice crackled over their radios, “126, be advised that Austin PD has been called in for support.” 

The others gave TK an unimpressed look. He shrugged, “Guess I’m just lucky that way.” 

There was a collective groan and Owen reminded them all to get their heads in the game. They rode in silence until they arrived at the accident scene. It was a single vehicle accident with the driver — a sheepish looking teen — standing awkwardly outside of the car, looking no worse for wear. In fact, the only victim in the accident seemed to be the traffic light which did not take its pole getting hit well. 

The moment they all descended from the truck Owen began to dole out assignments: “Paul, Marjan — let’s get this pole stabilized. TK check on the driver, see if he is really okay. Everyone else, direct traffic.” 

With a chorus of “yes Cap,” they were all off to attend to their assigned task. TK grabbed the first aid kit and headed over to the unfortunate driver, “Hey there, my name’s TK. Do you mind if I give you a quick once over, just to make sure you’re okay?” 

The teen nodded, still stealing glances at the pole as Paul and Marjan worked to brace it to keep it from falling into traffic, “I’m fine, but my parents are going to kill me.” 

“Hey,” TK said reassuringly, “this isn’t ideal but you’re not hurt and neither is anyone else so if I had to guess I’d say they’ll be pretty happy about that.”

The driver took a deep breath and nodded before giving TK a nervous smile, “it’s only my second day with my license.”  

“What better time to learn then?” 

“Do you have a positive spin for everything?” 

“I’m a glass half-full kind of guy.” 

The kid laughed and TK gave him another grin before stepping back with a nod, “it looks like you walked away without even a bruise as far as I can tell — you’re very lucky. You may be a little sore tomorrow from the seatbelt, but all in all it did its job and you’re fine. Your parents will be happy about that, at least. Plus,” he looked over at where the car was stopped haphazardly on the curb, “it doesn’t even look like the car is too damaged. As far as first accidents go, this isn’t a bad one.” 

The smile he got in return was a little more certain this time, “Thanks.” 

TK returned the smile but his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of approaching sirens. He looked over to see the arrival of both the ambulance and a very familiar police cruiser. He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat as Carlos climbed out of the passenger side and walked towards them. When he drew even with TK and the teen, he gave TK a warm smile, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey yourself.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a groan from behind Carlos. TK looked past him to see his partner Mya approaching, eyes rolled. “Could we get through one accident scene without all the flirting? Is that too much to ask?”  

“Hello to you too, Mya.” 

“Hi TK, you two are nauseating.” 

“Rude.” 

“But accurate.” 

The teen was watching their conversation, amusement edging out the panic that had been in his expression before. There was that, at least. 

Carlos, on the other hand, shook his head at the pair of them, “I hate to interrupt, but Officer Esquilin and I need to take this young man’s statement if you are done with him.” 

TK nodded and closed up the first aid kit, “He has a clean bill of health and is all yours. I’ll head over and tell Michelle her services won’t be needed.” He finished gathering his supplies and paused before heading to the ambulance, “I’ll catch up with you before we leave?” 

The smile Carlos gave him this time was warm and sincere, like a promise, “Of course.” 

TK returned the smile and with a wave to Mya headed off to the ambulance, a grin still on his face. 

“You wouldn’t be flirting with your boy on the clock now, would you TK?” Michelle asked as he approached. 

TK didn’t even bother to deny it, “What can I say? It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

He updated Michelle and the rest of the paramedic team on the status of their singular accident victim and was heading back to the engine to replace the first aid kit when the sound of shouting and the horrible sound of metal on metal cut through the calm afternoon. TK was already turning to see what had happened when another sound ripped through the air, freezing him on the spot. 

“Carlos!” 

The fear in Mya’s voice sent a chill down TK’s spine. He turned slowly, dread building with every heartbeat. His eyes scanned the scene desperately until he spotted him, and his heart sank. Carlos was sprawled on the pavement, the pole of the traffic light covering him. He wasn’t moving. 

TK’s heart thudded in his chest for a few frantic seconds, and then he was running before his mind had even processed the movement. He skidded to a stop and after only taking a moment to glance for immediate threats crashed to his knees beside his boyfriend. He reached out a shaking hand to check for a pulse, the sound of his own heartbeat filling his ears. He let out the breath he had been holding when he found it, sagging in relief even as Michelle arrived at Carlos’s other side. 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” TK said helplessly, “I just heard Mya yelling and looked over to see him down with the pole on top of him.” 

He glanced around, trying to piece it all together. There was another car now; it had slammed right into the already precarious pole. Marjan and Paul had been working on stabilizing it. He looked for them, praying that they were okay, that they hadn’t been hurt too and was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he spotted them at the edge of the chaos, gathering equipment to help the driver currently trapped in the car that had brought down the pole. 

A pained groan drew his attention back to Carlos. His eyes were open, but they were shrouded in a haze of pain. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” TK said soothingly, running a hand through his hair, “we’re going to get you out of this.” 

“Carlos, can you tell me what hurts?” Michelle asked softly from beside him. 

“What doesn’t hurt would be a shorter list,” Carlos replied, voice strained but still strong. TK took that as a good sign. He was still talking and aware, he would be fine. They just needed to free him. He looked down at the offending pole and felt his stomach twist. He didn’t know the exact dimensions of traffic lights, but he knew that there was likely well over 200 pounds resting on Carlos’s body right now, and unfortunately most of that seemed to be centered on his chest. His mind was racing with all the implications: a blow to the chest of this magnitude could cause ribs to fracture or break, organs to be damaged, internal bleeding...the list went on and on. 

“Hey, stay with me Ty.” 

Carlos’s voice, strained with pain pulled him back to the present. TK swallowed — the last thing Carlos needed now was to be worrying about him, but he wasn’t surprised. It was just like him, really. 

“Isn’t that my line?” he asked instead. 

“Maybe, but I could see you spiraling. Going there won’t help anything.” 

“You’re right,” TK agreed, “but you don’t need to be worried about me. Just focus on breathing, let us handle the rest. We’ve got this.” 

He heard his dad calling for the team and after a quick assurance from Michelle that she wouldn’t leave Carlos, got up to join them. The rest of the team looked grim as he approached and his dad wasted no time getting into it, “How is he?” 

“He’s in pain, but stable as far as I can tell.” 

He wanted to ask what happened, he wanted to know what had happened in those few seconds he had had his back turned but he didn’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary. Every moment he was here was a moment he wasn’t by Carlos’s side and that was the only place he belonged right now. 

His dad, thankfully, seemed to agree. He quickly gave instructions to the rest of the team, directing them to grab the equipment and splitting them into teams to deal with the various tasks that would need to be handled. When he was done he lowered his voice, turning back to TK. 

“TK, stay with him. Keep him calm and still; this is going to be rough enough as it is, the last thing he needs is to accidentally shift and get hurt even more.” 

His worried gaze never left Carlos, who was still looking dazed and trying his best to track the flurry of movement around him. TK followed his dad’s gaze, swallowed, and nodded. Without a word he returned to Carlos’s side, reaching out a gentle hand to turn his face away from where Paul and Judd were getting the equipment set up.  

“Hey, look at me, okay?” he instructed softly, “just stay with me. You’re going to be alright, the team’s got this. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Carlos nodded weakly, eyes glazed over with pain and TK’s heart clenched. He slipped off one of his gloves and ran a gentle hand through Carlos’s hair, “Just stay with me,” he repeated, hoping his voice sounded stronger out loud than it did in his own ears, “it’s going to be okay.” 

Carlos gave him a weak, tired smile and TK returned it. Despite everything—all the pain and fear—Carlos was still smiling at him. He loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

[continue reading on ao3]

[free-pancakes]

16. Levihan (lol if ever they have) lovelots! 🥰

ahh i got carried away and ended up making it into a fic! thanks for the ask @innocent-ghost-demon <3

hope it’s not too angsty but “First and last serious conversation” for levihan... the angst was calling out to me i guess lol. i blame how ch 138 made me feel tbh

crossposted AO3 link here

ask prompt link here 

First and Last

“Ouch!”

“Just hold still, four-eyes!”

Levi firmly held her hand as he wrapped a bandage over it, pulling it taut against the splint he placed under her forearm.

“Levi, I have to go back, our comrades need our help down there! Seriously, I’m fine!”

“Like hell you’re fine, if you just calm down I can stabilize your damn arm, we can make it back—“ He heard the sounds of blades being pulled, and watched the steam of titan blood float past them. “—preferably alive.”

“But my squad, Levi, they need me! I couldn’t—“ She let a sharp gasp escape and winced in pain as Levi pulled the makeshift sling over her shoulder. “I couldn’t live with myself if they died just because I couldn’t stop that one abnormal titan, and got my dumb arm busted up trying…” She tried to squirm out of Levi’s grasp but he had her pinned down tight under his knees, knowing that she would try to fight with her injury.

Levi peered over the edge of the large tree branch they were balanced upon, staring at the 10m titans clawing at the base of the tree below. He turned back to Hange. “You’re lucky I even saw you and brought you up here, you idiot. Now stop moving or we’re gonna become titan shit.”

Hange hesitated, wanting to bite back the words lingering on the tip of her tongue as they were probably inappropriate for such a situation, but she couldn’t resist. She smiled up at him. “Levi, titans don’t shi—“

“Shut up.” Hange closed her eyes and let out a small laugh as he continued to tie her sling.

Suddenly the sound of Nifa’s screams echoed through the forest, which turned on the protective switch inside Hange’s brain. She began to thrash under Levi, tears beading at the edges of her eyes due to the pain of her severely broken arm. Levi almost toppled over the edge but he regained a firm grip on Hange.

“LEVI THEY NEED ME THEY NEED HELP I CANT JUST LAY HERE AND—“

Levi was overcome with frustration, and he accidentally yelled out the words that had been swimming in his head this whole time.

“Well have you ever thought that maybe, I need you?!”

Hange paused. In that brief moment, they both heard the sound of ODM gear reeling and a heavy titan smash into the ground—Moblit had taken Nifa and the two were safe.

Hange breathed a sigh of relief, and looked back at Levi, who averted his eyes from her gaze. A signal flare shot upwards, telling them that the expedition was over and it was time to swiftly make their way home before more titans appeared.

Levi calmly finished setting Hange’s splint and sling. Before Hange could sit up, Levi took his right hand, balled it into a fist, and lightly placed it over her chest, feeling her heart beat rapidly against his hand.

“I need you, Hange, okay?” He planted a soft kiss on her forehead and turned around, quietly motioning her to climb up onto his back so he can bring her down safely to the wagons below. She wrapped her injured arm gingerly over his shoulder and gripped tightly with her other arm. Nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, she felt his locks of hair tickle at her forehead, and felt the warmth of his skin under the film of sweat on each of them—she felt right at home.

“Okay, Levi,” she whispered into his ear, the love in her heart for him laced neatly between her words.

———

“Ouch!”

“Just hold still, shorty!”

Hange held his hand gently as she wrapped fresh bandages over it—the base of his two missing fingers had started bleeding again.

“Hange I can’t just lay here forever, I need to find Zeke.”

“Pfft how dense are you, Levi? Look at your condition!” She scoffed as she placed her palm onto his bandaged chest and gently pushed him back to a laying position.

“For everyone...” he thought of Erwin, and all their fallen comrades. Their friends.

He closed his eyes as Hange’s earlier words about living in the forest together danced around in his head, the temptation of a quiet life with Hange clawing at his heart. He almost regrets not saying yes—but it wasn’t fair for him to be so selfish. As much as he wanted her to rest, he knew Hange, and he knew that she would never feel satisfied knowing that she didn’t help where she was needed.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were so tired, but she still managed to smile at him. He had to defeat Zeke. For everyone. For the small chance at a life with Hange.

He tried to stand up once again, but this time, Hange didn’t budge from where she sat on the grassy, forest floor. He wondered why she didn’t try to stop him, and why the hell she had a stupid grin on her face. He grit his teeth, and pushed himself up, limping away from Hange. He pressed on forward, though all his injuries made him feel like all his nerves were set on fire. He pushed onward, fighting for the paradise with Hange he imagined. He was maybe only 5 trees away from the clearing they had set up camp when his face suddenly felt hot and his vision began to blur—he felt himself falling, bracing himself for the extreme pain he’d feel when he’d hit the ground. But instead, he was met with warmth, kind and loving.

Hange caught him in her arms, and he felt her chuckle as his head laid against her abdomen. She carefully pulled him up and carried him back to where he was laying before. She quickly pressed a cool towel to his face, watching the wrinkle in his brow relax a little.

She ran her fingers through his hair, Levi feeling some of his pain wash away with her touch. “Figured I’d just let you tire yourself out,” she said with a hearty laugh. Levi was too exhausted to even scowl back at her, and of course, she noticed.

“Hey, don’t worry.” She rested her palm onto his cheek. “You’ll get your chance, I know it. The kids don’t need you right now, but I know they’ll need you later.” She looked off into the distance, but this time, Levi couldn’t tell what was on her mind—or maybe he was just in denial. She looked back down at Levi.

“What’s gotten into you? You know that you’re too injured right now. What’s on your mind, Levi?”

He closed his eyes, shielding the windows into his mind, shutting Hange out from reading his thoughts.

He could see it clearly, a beautiful cabin in the woods that the both of them built together. The smell of tea brewing mixed with the strong scent of pine trees hugged their noses, and the sound of kids giggling, and stomping into the home. Two little kids with messy black hair and light grey eyes wearing glasses rushed into the cabin tackling their mother to the floor. A mess of books and flowers collected from the forest were strewn all over the place, but Levi didn’t mind. He stared at her smile—her big stupid smile, and he crouched down to gather his little family into a hug.

“Levi.”

Her voice woke him from his fantasy, the scene escaping him like a lone leaf in the wind—it was right there in front of him, but he just couldn’t reach it.

She stared, head cocked innocently to the side, waiting for his answer.

And for the first time, Levi couldn’t keep his emotions in, a few tears escaping. He finally opened his eyes, letting Hange see. Hange peered into his eyes and saw his fantasy playing like a movie, vividly, right before her.

She balled her hand into a fist and placed it over his chest, feeling his heart beat against her hand.

She wanted the cabin too. Maybe… maybe they could have it after this was all over.

“You know me too well Levi, but I guess I ruined our little dream— I just can’t stay out of the action, huh?” She sighed, and laid down next to him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Let’s just lay here together for a bit, while we still can, okay Levi?” She pushed her lips against his forehead, leaving a kiss for him there.

He craned his neck to the right, and pushed his forehead gently against hers, and he let himself believe in their fantasy for a little while.

“Okay, Hange,” he whispered in response, the love in his heart for her laced neatly between his words.

[tjwritesstories]

If the haikyuu match up thingy is still open:

I’m short(4’11”) and chubby. I do a bunch of stuff with my hair and right now it’s a buzz cut that is growing out. I’d personally say I’m an edge lord or that I’m fairly chaotic or just doing stupid things. I work with dogs and I have a dog. I think I’m fairly strong because I can pick up a large black lab and carry it like a baby. I have a shitty knee and am constantly looking for it’s brace. I cry for most emotions. I also cry if I’m being yelled at. I fixate on one thing and it takes a while for me to move to another thing. I say “fight me” way too much for someone who would probably cry if I got into a fight.

Thank you in advance if you answer this 💕✨

Okay this might be unexpecting but hear me out.... ASAHI!

Your personalities clash. Both similar and extremely different. While he is a cinnamon roll you act like a spicy cinnamon roll yk?

despite your chaotic energy and edgy aura you happen to be an emotional little ball of energy which Asahi LOVES. To be honest you probably scared him at first

You probably met him through Tanaka and Nishinoya (my head canon is that you shaved your head with Tanaka for a bet) and since you are friends with Tanaka and nishinoya my man asahi was like😐 hell nah🏃 and ran out of pure FEAR

But once he got to know you he saw how interesting you were and seeing you interact with dogs made him fall in love with you. You were just like him, intimidating but a big softy.

With that being said he is the ONLY ONE who thinks your intimidating.

Everyone else has seen you cry over a dog’s journey.

Your relationship is the perfect amount of chaotic and stability. You bring out his confidence and he’s able to let loose around you.

With that given, he is the worry wart boyfriend. He always wants to make sure you’re safe and okay. He panicks when he sees you pick up a dog because ajsjsjsjdjrnf you’re SMALL TF HOW ARE YOU THAT STRONG?!

Say fight me to him and he will get confused and CRY

overall your relationship is quite surprising but at the same time not.

Since you wear a knee brace I’m amusing you have an injury correct? (Me too) so when your knee acts up he’s always there to massage it and because you always lose that damn thing he always has a spare one on him.

Anyways inclusion you two are like socks and shoes

(I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSSS! It’s a little suckyand I’m sorry :( I kinda saw you with Tanaka but I felt as if you would be like the third chaotic person to nishinoya and tanaka’s group. Hope you enjoy <3 love you have a good day/night)

[fireladybuckley]

Not Like This (Part 3)

Read: Part 1: Here Part 2: Here Part 4: Here  Part 5: Here

Fandom:  Star Trek AOS (Soulmate AU) Pairing: Reader x Bones Word Count: 3,028 Rating: Teen+ Warnings: Injuries, blood, surgery/hospital Tag List: @outside-the-government @littlecarowrites @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse  @feelmyroarrrr @trekken81 @lurkch @yourtropegirl @answer-the-sirens Author’s note:  I’m still absolutely flabbergasted by the amount of love I’ve gotten for this fic.  Thank you guys so much for the support!   I’ve added everyone who asked to be tagged since the last time, please let me know if I missed your name!   There will definitely be a part 4 to this fic, as I have more to write than I thought.  It is NOT written yet, though, so there’s a chance it will be a *little* longer for the last part.   Please enjoy!! 

              South? Where, behind the shuttle?  Or closer to the water?  Leonard sends a few more questioning thoughts as he runs, but he quickly realizes that his soulmate has completely stopped responding.  He slows to a walk for a moment, breathing hard, straining to catch any thoughts, but he can’t sense anything at all.  He’s approaching the crash site now and hurries forward at about the same time as the first responders, most of whom beeline for a crowd of people near the beach.   Remembering what she had told him, with the fear of her silence making his heart clench, he jogs around behind the shuttle, away from the crowd to the south.  There are many large pieces of the destroyed shuttle scattered around the area, smoking and smoldering, and it takes him a few minutes of searching before he sees a figure, prone on the ground, a short distance away.

               He runs over and stares down at the young woman, realizing almost immediately that she must be his soulmate, if only because the injuries match what she’d been able to tell him.  The fact that she is wearing a ripped and torn cadet uniform (minus the jacket) further confirms it.   He drops to his knees beside her and opens his pack, his expert eyes scanning her body for obvious injuries.  There was the long, jagged piece of shrapnel sticking out of her leg, and the large, deep cut on the back of her forearm, her skin coated with blood from it.  What she hadn’t told him, though, was that she clearly had a head injury.  There was a large gash on the side of her face that had bled down her neck and soaked into her shirt, and judging from how large it was and the angle that the projectile had hit, he was guessing she’d been knocked out at some point and probably had a concussion.  There are also multiple smaller cuts and bruises over her face, arms and chest, and she’s covered with a grimy mixture of soot from the smoke, ash and dust from the explosion that is still drifting through the air.

                 He watches her chest rise and fall for about ten seconds, until he’s sure she’s breathing properly, then takes her wrist, settling his fingers over the pulse point, ignoring the blood on her skin.  He can feel her pulse easily but it’s very fast and weak, and he wonders worriedly about the cause for her unconsciousness – whether it was the head injury, fluid loss from the arm wound, or some internal bleeding that he’d not yet detected.

                 Quickly, he pulls several large gauze pads from his pack, stacks them into a large wad and applies pressure to the arm wound, looking around as he does so, trying to see if there’s an ambulance nearby.   His soulmate desperately needs to get to the medical centre at the Academy, but he can see no one, and he is not going to leave her side anytime soon.    After a few minutes, the bleeding is slowing, so he adds a few more layers to the wad and secures them in place by wrapping it with a roll of gauze and tying it off directly over the wound.  

                 “Hey!  I need some help over here!” he yells in the direction of the medics, but in all of the commotion, what with more sirens in the distance, the crackling of the fire and shouting of people all around, no one seems to hear him.  He tries a few more times as he works, but still, no one comes.  He swears to himself and looks down at her, very reluctant to move away from her, even just a few meters away.  

                 There isn’t a lot he can do with her leg out here on the ground, so he begins to brace the metal by surrounding it with whole rolls of gauze on every side, trying to stabilize it.  Once he gets several inches built up around it, he secures the rolls in place with another long roll of stretchy gauze, doing his best to keep the shrapnel from moving.  This will allow her to be transported without the object tearing up the inside of her leg and potentially severing an artery.  Still no one has come to help and so he stands, looking around.   As he’s trying to figure out what he can do without leaving her side, it occurs to him that some of the medics are likely to be the people he works with regularly in the Academy medical clinic.  Retrieving his comm from his pocket, he quickly tries to contact one of the most competent medics that he can think of.  Thanking his lucky stars, the medic answers her comm and Leonard starts talking fast.

                 “It’s Dr. McCoy.  Are you at the site of the shuttle accident?”

                 “Yes sir, we’re just arriving now, I’m in the second wave of ambulances.”

                 “Perfect.  Can you and another come around behind the shuttle?  I’ve got a casualty in the debris.  She’s unconscious with a potential head injury, shrapnel puncture wound in the right quadricep and deep laceration to the forearm.  Her vitals are stable but quickly deteriorating. I’ve done what I can here but she needs to get to the medical centre.”

                 “Of course.  We’ll be right there with a stretcher.”

                 Leonard snaps his comm shut and tosses it back into his pocket, kneeling down beside his soulmate’s limp form, his stomach twisting with concern and worry.   He’s almost certain she’ll be just fine with the proper care, but the sense of urgency is doing a number on his nerves.

                 A minute later, the medic he’d called appears around the edge of the destroyed shuttle and spots him.  She hurries towards Leonard with her partner, their hover-stretcher following noiselessly in their wake.

                 “Thank god,” he says, waving her over.  

                 “I trust you’ve done everything I would, Doctor?” the medic asks.

                 “Of course,” he replies, watching as she lowers the hover bed so that it’s directly beside his soulmate.

              “Good. Let’s get her to Emerg then,” she says.  Leonard helps her get his soulmate onto the stretcher, then follows the medics as they hurry back to their ambulance.   He gets into the back without either medic saying a thing, and before he knows it, they’re off and flying towards the Academy, staying fairly low to the ground.   He reaches for his soulmate’s hand, realizing belatedly that he doesn’t even know her name.  All the things they’ve chatted about, and he never thought to ask her to actually tell him her name.  She looks so small and helpless lying there, covered in blood and soot, and it makes his heart hurt that this had to be their first meeting.   She moans softly as his hands wrap around one of hers, shifting slightly, but she doesn’t wake.  He stays with her the whole way, right up to the door of the emergency surgery theatre, where he darts off into another room and begins to scrub up.  He changes into scrubs and puts on the gown and all other sanitary guards, washing his hands up to the elbows before gloves are pulled onto his hands by a nearby nurse.  

                Leonard walks into the operating theatre and sees that they’ve already got her under anaesthesia, the breathing tube inserted and attached to the ventilator.  He doesn’t even have a chance to say anything before the surgeon looks up, spots him standing there and shakes her head.

 “You’re not supposed to be in here, McCoy, it’s not your shift.”  

 “I don’t care, I want to help,” he says, reaching for a PADD that has his soulmate’s information on it.  

                “No.”  The surgeon walks over to him and motions for a nurse to take the device from him, frowning.  “We have a full team, McCoy, there’s no need for you to be here.”  Her frown deepens as the nurse plucked the PADD from his grip, and eyes him with concern and skepticism.  “You just contaminated your gloves with the PADD, McCoy.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you compromise the sterile field before.”

                “Please,” he begs, ignoring her last words in his desperation, “I know I can help.  I found her on the field, I know exactly what happened, I-”

                “How were you even on location?” the surgeon asks, staring at him suspiciously.   “It was my impression that all of the fourth year medical cadets had finals today.”

                “Look, I don’t have time to explain.  Just let me be part of this,” he says forcefully, his tone rough and unintentionally aggressive.  Her eyebrow raises as she looks at him, and he realizes too late that he’s just blown any chance of him participating in his soulmate’s care.

                “You are out of line, Cadet McCoy.  You need to leave this operating theatre right now and return to your classes or I will call security.  That is an order!”  Leonard hesitates long enough that the surgeon stares at him in amazement, having never once seen the younger doctor fail to obey a direct order before.  “What the hell has gotten into you, McCoy?”

                “She – she’s my soulmate,” he manages to say, feeling physically sick at the thought of both his soulmate lying unconscious on the operating table, and at the fact that he was actively disobeying a direct order.  “I found her on the field because she was able to guide me to her when she was conscious.  I can’t just leave her.”  His words are laced with desperation now, his eyes pleading over his surgical mask.  There is silence in the room, all of the nurses looking on nervously, one of them hovering near the comm in the corner, ready to call security.  After an agonizingly long moment in which she carefully scrutinizes Leonard’s face, the surgeon sighs as her expression softens a little.

                “Against my better judgement, I will allow you to remain in the theatre, but you are not participating in the surgery.  That is my only offer.  Take it or leave it,” she tells him, her tone firm and unyielding, holding his gaze.  He nods quickly, wishing that he could help, but knowing that it’s better than nothing. Many other surgeons would have had him dragged from the theatre for his insubordination.

                “Thank you,” he tells her, his hushed tone one of gratitude.  She nods curtly as she goes back to her preparations for the surgery, and Leonard moves so he’s out of the way of the nurses and holds his soulmate’s uninjured hand, tucked in a chair against the side of the biobed.  He doesn’t know why she’s let him stay, but he stays quiet, grateful to still be there at all after his little outburst, his heart racing uncomfortably fast.

                Time passes slowly as Leonard watches the surgeon and nurses work. He’s itching to take part in the care, but he knows that this team is one of the best in the centre, so at least his soulmate is in good hands.  He holds her hand throughout, stroking it and thinking reassuring thoughts at her, though her mind remains silent and blank.  He’s relieved when the surgeon announces that the shrapnel in her leg has only just nicked the femoral artery and that it will be fairly easy to repair.  He watches intently as she removes the shrapnel and, after cleaning the blood out of the wound, carefully micro-sutures the small tear in the artery. She then puts in subcutaneous sutures before closing the skin along the edges of the wound.   Leonard has to admire her skill; her hands are even steadier than his and every stitch is absolutely perfect.

                “Are you wondering why I let you stay, Leonard?” she asks him after a lengthy silence, as she removes the bandaging he’d applied and examines his soulmate’s forearm.  She begins to suture the wound there, glancing at him after a moment.  He nods, vaguely noting that her tone is much softer than before, and she smiles behind her mask, her eyes crinkling slightly.   “A few years ago, when I came to this campus from across the country, I too found my soulmate.”  She glances at him to see that he’s still listening raptly, and so, she continues. “She was amazing.  We each figured out the identity of the other pretty quickly and had an amazing few months together.  Then she got hurt.  Very hurt.” She pauses, and Leonard can almost feel the pain radiating from her at the memory.  “I had a moment very like you just did, insisting that I help with her surgeries.  I was banished from the operating room for being emotionally compromised and endured the worst hours of my life, waiting.”   Leonard nods, his eyes full of understanding.

                “Is she okay now?” he asks, a bit tentatively.  He’s hoping her story doesn’t have a tragic ending, and he feels relieved when he sees her smile again.

                “Oh yes,” she replies, chuckling.  “She’s healthier than me, I think.  But the point is, when you told me she was your soulmate… I remembered how desperate I was, how painful those hours were, and I didn’t want you to suffer like I did.” Leonard doesn’t respond for a moment, thinking about how distraught he would be right at this moment if he wasn’t in the theatre, able to see everything.  He knows he would be pacing anxiously back and forth, feeling sick with worry and fear.

                “Thank you,” he says again, squeezing his soulmate’s hand for his own reassurance.  “I’m very glad your soulmate came through.”  The surgeon smiles and continues on with her stitching in amiable silence, and before he knows it, the surgery is over.    The surgeon runs a tricorder over his soulmate’s head and neck area, scanning for any broken bones and swelling or bruising of the brain to indicate if she has a concussion, and if so, how severe.  She also runs it down over her chest and legs, checking for any missed fractures.

                “Looks like there’s some swelling to the brain, but considering how long she was out beforehand and the nature of her injuries, it’s much better than I was expecting.  A few cracked ribs, but those should mend well enough on their own.  We’ll move her to ICU for now and see how she does.”

                The nurses lead Leonard and the biobed bearing his soulmate into a recovery room, just off of the operating theatre.  Once his soulmate starts breathing on her own after the anaesthesia wears off, they remove her breathing tube and do a full round of vital checks, changing up the nearly empty IV bag for a new one.   After an hour or so of closely monitoring her vitals, which the surgeon has graciously allowed Leonard to do, his soulmate is moved to a room in the ICU.  He stands back as a different doctor hooks her up to a saline drip and places a cannula in her nose to keep her oxygen saturation up. The doctor tests her reactions to stimuli to make sure she’s come out of the anaesthesia properly.  She’s able to localize and withdraw from any painful stimuli, and her pupils are reacting normally to light, despite her unconscious state.  

                “She’s come out of the anaesthesia, but she’ll probably be asleep for a while, considering her injuries,” the doctor tells Leonard, as he enters some information into his PADD.  “You can stay with her as long as you like, McCoy.  I’ll let your supervisor know why you haven’t shown up for your evening shift.”

                Leonard nods his wordless thanks and sits down beside his soulmate, taking her hand once again.  He sits still for several long moments, looking down at her, wishing there was something more that he could do.  He realizes that although they’d mopped up a bit of the blood and soot around her major wounds, she’s still pretty filthy, covered with blood, soot and dirt. Leonard stands and retrieves a small basin from under the sink and a soft cloth from a nearby cupboard, able to find everything quickly thanks to his knowledge of the medical centre.  He fills the basin with warm water and brings it to her bedside, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.  The warm water runs over his hands as he wrings out the cloth, and he begins to carefully wipe away the blood from her arm. The water in the bowl quickly turns an orange-brown as he meticulously and gently removes all of the blood and dirt from either of her arms.  

                He changes the water and tosses the cloth into a hamper, retrieving a new cloth to use for her face.  He begins to very gently wipe away the soot over her forehead, the soft cloth slipping along her skin.  As Leonard carefully clears her skin of blood and dirt, her features are exposed to him and he can see her face clearly for the first time.  She looks vaguely familiar, and he’s sure that he’s seen her before in passing, perhaps in the cafeteria or one of the study rooms.  He sighs as he carefully cleans around the wound on the side of her face, clearing up all the dried blood and dirt there, wishing he’d known before now who she was.

                One of the passes of the cloth over her cheek sends a trickle of water down her jawline and down her neck, as he hadn’t wrung the cloth out well enough.  He hurries to catch the trail of water before it soaks into her clothes, when she suddenly moans, her head moving slightly.  He freezes on the spot, his hand still resting gently on her neck through the cloth, watching her face as she moans softly again.

                “Hey,” he says gently, calling to her.  “Wake up, darlin’.”   She turns her head slightly, her lips parting like she’s about to speak, but nothing comes of it and she lies still.  He sighs, disappointed, but a moment later, before he can even resume the washing of her skin, she moans again and her eyes begin to slowly flutter open as she creeps back into consciousness.

Read chapter four here

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The Anchor by Ed Lehner

“Billie, set some damned anchors,” I yelled up at her. She was high up on the near vertical granite wall, much too far above her last rope anchors for the belay rope which I was holding tightly and anxiously with my leather gloved hands. 

* * *

Billie and I had taken rented canoes to the far end of a lake in a rugged mountainous area of Montana to do some rock climbing. We could have gotten by with one but, she being the independent woman she was, had to paddle her own. She was always determined to make her own way. I had learned over the eight months we had been together to stay out of her way when she was determined to do something. 

She had heard of this place from a customer at REI in Salt Lake where we both worked. After an early start, it had taken us the better part of the first day of our five days off to drive up here, and paddle across the lake to the landing site by the place we wanted to climb. The alternative would be to have a helicopter take us in, but that was way beyond our budget. 

We off loaded and carried what we could to where we would set up camp. There were six other climbers already there, probably choppered in since we saw no other water craft. We exchanged pleasantries with them and found a spot to set our tent. We went back to the canoes and got out the cooler with food and beer for the next three days. 

* * *

I had grown up outside of Santa Fe where I roamed the desert areas from almost as soon as I could walk. I was turned on to rock climbing by one of my friends in high school and was quickly hooked. I earned a degree in education with a minor in literature at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. My goal to be a high school teacher so I would have summers off to play in the desert and rock climb. After graduation, I got a job teaching in Los Lunas, resigning after two years, being disillusioned with the educational system and not quite ready to grow up. I took a road trip that summer exploring and climbing in Colorado and Utah, eventually ending up, out of money, in Salt Lake City. My outdoor experience got me a job at REI where I met Billie. 

We got to know each other and became climbing buddies on our days off. We became close friends, then lovers. She was beautiful with her close cropped dark hair, high cheekbones, finely featured face and soft hazel eyes. She was long, lithe, and an excellent rock climber with long strong arms and legs. She was like watching a spider when she climbed. Her climbing was as beautiful to watch as she was beautiful. 

* * *

It was more and more frightening watching her do this pitch. She was now way above where she should have already set several anchors for the belay rope. Right now she was free climbing. Even though she was wearing a harness, it would do her no good if she fell. She looked in complete control, but, this was not a mapped line where she was. Two of the other climbers joined me. 

“Geez Man,” one said, “she needs to set some anchors.” She’s way beyond her last one.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been telling her,” I said, trying not to show the panic I was feeling. 

* * *

Billie was raised in Boulder, Colorado along with a younger sister and an older brother. Her parents were both rock climbers and mountaineers and had all three of his children out in the mountains at an early age. Billie took to the mountains like a duck to water, she couldn’t get enough. By the time she was in high school she already had a name for herself amongst the climbers in and around the Boulder area. 

She earned a certificate in Outdoor Recreation Leadership at Colorado Mountain College in Leadville, Colorado. After that she worked at the National Outdoor Leadership School out of Lander, Wyoming for a year, working with young adults. For whatever reason, she left NOLS, moved to Salt Lake and started working for REI. 

She was one of the toughest women I had ever met. Her mornings before work were at a nearby cross fit center. I would join her a few times a week and she always showed me up with her strength and stamina. She thought nothing of a ten run mile at five in the morning. Her goal, by her thirtieth birthday, was to solo Everest. She was now twenty-three. I had no doubts she could and would, somehow, manage to do it. At this moment, I was wondering if she would live that long. 

* * *

“Billie, dammit, set some damned anchors. You’re scaring me,” I screamed up to her. 

She yelled back down to me, “Shut up Ryan. I’ve got this. You’re making me nervous.” She reached for her next handhold. Then she stretched out her leg at an impossible angle, found purchase with her toes and swung her body another two feet upward, two feet closer to the top or, possible disaster. She had maybe ten or fifteen more feet to the summit. She now had to be over sixty feet high, her last belay anchors set maybe thirty or thirty-five feet lower. 

Another climber had joined us. “Wow, she’s amazing. That’s a really difficult route, gotta be in the 5.12 to 5.15 range. She’s gotta be one of the best climbers I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yeah, she’s good alright but I wish to hell she’d set herself some anchors.” 

“Oh crap! Yeah! Oh my god, yeah, she hasn’t. That’s no place to be free climbing. That’s a dangerous wall.” 

More panic was building in my chest. My stomach was churning. I took some deep breaths. I wanted to do something, but was helpless. It was up to her. Dammit, Billie set some dammed anchors. I was wishing her to do something. Anything. 

Two more of the climbers had gathered around me, watching, not saying anything. Just when it looked like she had it made, she reached her right hand up with those long arms, feeling around for a handhold, finding it . . . I could almost see her staring in disbelief as I watched her fall, like in 

slow motion, useless rope coiling in the air above her. She didn’t scream but I saw the look of terror in face, even from so far away, as she clawed to find purchase, but found only air. 

* * *

Billie and I were lovers, mostly on her terms. I was enamored with her. I really didn’t know about love or what it was, I only knew I wanted to be with her. I enjoyed her energy, her enthusiasm for life, and the great wild abandoned sex. 

I wanted to wanted to move in together, but she said she needed her space. I made the point that she was either at my place or I was at hers every night. Her answer was she didn’t want to commit to anything, she didn’t know much longer she was going to be in Salt Lake, she didn’t want to be tied down, she wanted her freedom; NOLS was asking her to come back; she was considering maybe applying for a position at Outward Bound and several other outdoor schools. All she talked about were all the opportunities she could have here or there or somewhere else. 

All our conversations were either in undertones or overtones, neither of us ever getting said what needed to be said. She would ignore my gestures of love. She was a free spirit. It was becoming clear that I was but a momentary blip on her radar. It hurt, but maybe that was my attraction to her, her remoteness to love and commitment, her focused drive to achieve her goals. Maybe I wanted to be like her and hoped what she had in her singularity and focus would rub off on me. In many ways I was jealous of her. 

* * *

The group around me gave an auditory gasp as they saw her plunging to the rocks below. Somehow, her rope, coiling wildly above her, snagged an outcropping of rock after she had plummeted about twenty feet. I braced myself and two other guys, seeing the same thing, quickly grabbed ahold of me and braced themselves. The slack was snapped up a moment later, almost pulling all three of us off our feet, as we watched her fall instantly stopped. The rope had held on the outcropping. Her athleticism showed as she immediately righted herself and had her feet towards the wall to stop her as she swung towards it. 

“God, I hope she’s okay. That was really a hard stop,” somebody muttered. 

“Better than the alternative,” said another. We all were watching, now with our mouths open like gaping fools, at what we had just witnessed. Nobody said anything. Every one of was hardly breathing. We saw her moving and grabbing purchase on the rock. Her next move was to grab an anchor off her belt and wedge it in to a crack and tie off. She set yet another anchor and was now doubly secured, then she set a third. Stabilized, she sat there in her harness. I could see her breathing hard, wiping her eyes. 

She called down in a shaky voice, “I need to check the rope and make sure it’s okay.” She found the downside of the rope and did a quick loop hitch in her harness to secure it and then untied it from her harness and pulled it over the out cropping letting the loose end fall. She then pulled it back up and carefully examined it. “It’s pretty frayed. I’m going to cut it and get rid of it,” she called down. 

We watched her as she found her knife and cut the frayed part off, letting it drop. She retied the rope to her harness and threaded it through her anchors. “I’m ready to come down now. With the rope safely in her anchors, I could now belay her down. 

Minutes later she was on the ground and collapsed. I was first to reach her. She was on her hands and knees, crying, shaking, retching. I took her in my arms and held her for a long time until she slowly regained her composure. 

The first thing she said was, “How could I be so stupid? I’m sorry, so sorry. I was in a zone. I didn’t want to stop. Just wanted to keep going. I thought I had it. I know better. It was a stupid, stupid, stupid asinine thing to do. I would’ve died if that rope didn’t catch. Just hold me for a minute. I want to feel alive. I just want to feel alive . . .” 

Always in control, I had never seen her so vulnerable, like a child with a badly skinned knee. I held her, gently but firmly, feeling a lump rise in my throat and tears of relief form in my own eyes. She finally stopped shaking. Then she just went limp and let me hold her. 

“Okay, I think I need a beer,” she muttered. “I need more than one plus a tequila shot or two,” I said. “You brought tequila?” That was the last thing she said. I put away our gear while she slowly sipped on a beer. I prepped some food and we ate. One of the other campers came over and asked if we wanted to join them. I looked at Billie who was now staring off with vacant eyes at the granite wall that almost took her life, and said thanks, but I think we’ll pass. He nodded his head, said good night, and left. 

She said flatly, “I’d like to get out of here tomorrow. I’m finished,” She said no more. 

“Understood. We can pack up and head back early then.” She said nothing more, never looking at me. We crawled into the tent and sleeping bags. She turned away from me and feigned sleep. 

Her night was fitful. She woke me several times calling out, “No! No! I can’t. No! I don’t want to die. I want to be alive. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry Daddy. I don’t want to. Mommy, Mommy, I’m scared.” 

We were up at dawn. She helped pack up like a robot or a zombie, with mechanical like movements and no words. Gear and supplies loaded in the canoes, we heading back across the lake. There was a blankness about her, she was empty, her eyes were vacant, like all energy, like her very soul had been drained from her, like there was nothing left. 

When we landed, she went to the van and sat still staring, maybe in her mind at that granite wall. I returned the canoes to the rental place, loaded our gear in my van, and headed down the deserted highway bordered by foreboding dark hills. She had lost herself. And I was losing myself as I wondered for her survival and my love for her. We drove on into a gathering storm of thunder and lightening where her dreams would never be the same. 

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