#shepherd whump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somber-sapphic · 1 year

Note

Can I request 3 and 4 with 🐍 and💐 for Callie and Arizona if it's okay with Callie being sick? I am loving everything that you have already written! You write with Marina super well I can't wait to see what you can do with Callie/Arizona.

Chicken Soup for the Surgeon

〖Notes: I had a bit of trouble trying to get the characters down for this one, I hope you like it.〗

〖Summary: Arizona's superpower is never wrong. That doesn't mean that Callie will listen.〗

〖Word Count: 2398 〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Arizona had warned her. She had warned her ten hours ago, saying that she should take the day off of work because she’d be sick. Callie wasn’t typically one to ignore her wife’s typically valid points, but she scoffed at the idea that the perky blonde could predict when someone would be sick with no evidence at all.

As a medical professional, she needed evidence for just about any decision in her life. There came a certain comfort when one worked in a field driven by science, a level of surety that was never swayed by opinion. No matter what someone believed there was a correct answer. There may have been multiple, but there was always an answer if you were willing to find it.

Imagine the orthopedic surgeon's annoyance when she woke up for her next shift with a pounding headache and stuffy nose. She groaned inwardly and rolled over in bed, surprised to find it empty. Her wife was nowhere to be seen. Shit.

The brunette checked the time and her ‘shit’ feeling grew more intense. She was late. She was so very late.

Ignoring the protests of her overly exhausted body the surgeon pulled herself out of bed and raced to the bathroom, pulling on the first clothes that she managed to yank from the dresser. She managed to brush her teeth while doing her hair, a feat that she was mildly impressed by. She was capable of doing anything if she was late.

Callie ran into the kitchen, grabbing her bags as she headed for the door, pulling up short when she saw a note on the counter.

Calliope-

Don’t you dare come to work today. Bailey knows you’re sick and is under orders to alert me if you are seen entering the hospital. There’s chicken soup in the fridge, heat it for lunch. I’ll call you in a few hours to check-in.

Love you,

Arizona

The note gave the ill doctor pause. What if she did say home? What if she followed her wife’s orders and went back to bed? She knew from experience that Arizona made amazing chicken noodle soup, it was practically the only thing that she could cook. She also knew that there was a good chance that the blonde would come home to her if she asked.

Callie pushed the thought away as quickly as it had appeared, she probably wouldn’t be allowed to see patients but she could at least fill out paperwork. Like most of her coworkers, she was awful about finishing her paperwork on time, there was just so much going on that she didn’t always have time.

✭✭✭✭

Amelia was startled from her intense study of the brain scan by a hacking cough that reverberated off of the walls and made her chest hurt in sympathy. She poked her head through the doorway and curled her lip at the sight of Callie stumbling down the hallway.

“Torres!” She called, pulling the brunette’s attention away from whatever her original task was. Based on the glazed look in the Ortho Goddesses eyes and the emptiness in her expression Amelia wasn’t even sure that she had a task.

“Damn, you’ve kept that cough through two colds and it sounds like you’re on your third.” The neurosurgeon murmured, pressing the back of her hand against Callie’s hot forehead. She grimaced and the other doctor took a few quick steps away, looking dazed. She turned away and began to cough into her arm, doing her best to shield the woman in front of her from the germs.

Amelia reared back, covering her mouth with a hand.

“No, nope. I have to be in a kid's brain in two hours, you are not giving me whatever that is. Go home Callie, you’re gross.” She wrinkled her nose and gave Callie a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before running off to rub hand sanitizer on any part of her body that might have been exposed to whatever her friend was currently infected with.

The ill woman sniffled tiredly and trudged down the hall, not going anywhere in particular. With her brain on autopilot, Callie found herself wandering onto the pediatric unit, right to where Arizona was signing reports outside of a young patient's room.

“I want a clotting test done on her and make sure to continue monitoring her vitals, page me if they drop any lower.” The blonde doctor ordered, smiling warmly at a nurse. The man nodded and went to get the things needed for the clotting test.

Callie realized her mistake at the last second and tried to veer off course, but it was too late, she had been seen. The pediatric surgeon glared at her sick girlfriend and shook her head, resisting the urge to start yelling in the middle of the hallway.

While the woman always loved her heelies, she was particularly grateful for them in that moment, it made it much easier to catch up with her fleeing lover.

“Calliope! What the hell are you doing here?” She hissed, grabbing the brunette's shoulder and spinning her around. Callie looked at her with wide eyes, seeming at a loss for words. She was never at a loss for words, she always had something to say.

Arizona felt her heart drop at the look on the woman’s face, she just looked exhausted and confused.

“Callie. Baby. Why are you here?” She asked, her voice softening as she let go of the frustration. Her girlfriend had a fever, she wasn’t fully aware of what was happening.

“I um…I didn’t want to be alone.” Callie said sheepishly, refusing to meet Arizona’s eyes. She was incredibly embarrassed by the admission, she wasn’t one to express any kind of weakness, and this, this was weakness. This was just about as bad as it could get. She was vulnerable, she wanted her girlfriend.

“Oh, Calliope. Okay,” The blonde sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to figure out what she should do. She could stick the other woman in a room until her shift was over, that might be the best course of action. Or she could just take her home to make sure that she rested and it was probably best to remove her from the hospital entirely so that she didn't sneak off to work.

“Ellen,” She said, turning back to one of the nurses. “I’m going to take Dr. Torres home, I want you to page Dr. Montgomery-Shepard if anything happens. She will decide if I am needed.” The nurse nodded her understanding and gave Callie a sympathetic smile. The doctor wrinkled her nose in distaste, unhappy that she was getting so much attention. She just wanted her girlfriend.

“C’mon Callie. Let’s go.” Arizona whispered, looping her arm through the other woman’s. Callie coughed into her shoulder and the ped’s surgeon hummed her disapproval and rubbed her back to calm the fit.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” Callie replied, rasped rather, her eyes dull and clouded with fever. She had started to shiver a bit, inching closer to the woman by her side. Arizona held her a bit tighter as they walked out of the building, throwing a wave at a slightly annoyed-looking Bailey on the way out.

One look at the orthopedic surgeon and the woman’s expression turned from frustrated confusion to a mix of disgust and concern. She waved back with a slight eye-roll, leaving the two to go home.

Callie fell asleep as soon as Arizona started the car, her cold taking everything out of her. The blonde smiled over at her girlfriend, her heart swelling at just how beautiful she was. The wrinkles on her forehead were gone, leaving a soft content expression on her face.

Her lips were parted and her nose was red, but that didn’t take away from her overall beauty. It added a sort of vulnerability to the woman’s stoic demeanor. That was when Arizona realized: she was in love with Calliope Torres.

She drove in silence, contemplating the revelation that she’d just had, glancing over at the sick brunette every few seconds just to reassure herself that the woman was still breathing. The quiet was only broken by the sounds of Callies soft snores and sniffles.

When they arrived home Arizona was almost hesitant to wake the brunette, she was sleeping more peacefully than she had in weeks. But her cheeks were flushed and her nose had begun to run across her lip, they needed to go inside.

She climbed out of the car and shut the door quietly, hoping to give her just a few more seconds of rest. The blonde opened Callie’s door and touched her shoulder, squeezing it gently to wake her up.

“Hey Callie, it's time to wake up.” She murmured, reaching up to tuck a lock of thick dark hair behind her lover's ear. The brunette started, sitting up quickly with wide confused eyes. She stared at Arizona, almost looking right through her.

“Hey baby, it’s okay.” Callie frowned, looking around, disoriented as she tried to take in her surroundings. She was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep at the hospital, but…this wasn’t the hospital.

“We’re at home, remember?” The blonde could read her mind and any other day it would be cute, but for now it was creepy. It was making her nervous, she didn’t fully understand what was happening and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep, hopefully in her girlfriend’s arms.

“We’re at home?” She asked, blinking tiredly up at her fellow surgeon.

“Mhm, we’re home. Come on, let's get you inside.” Arizona wrapped an arm around Callie’s waist and helped her walk inside, being incredibly careful not to let her trip up the steps. It was a slow, painstaking process, but soon enough she had the brunette in the bedroom, standing near the bed.

“I gotta change.”

“Woah, woah, sit down your complexion’s scaring me. I’ll help you change, okay? Let's take your temp first.” The pediatric surgeon whipped out a thermometer and dragged it across Callie’s forehead, simultaneously forcing the brunette to sit down. She held the woman’s chin in hand as she stared at the device in her hand.

“Okay, 101.6, that’s not as bad as I thought. Here, I want you to change into these while I get some NyQuil, which you will be taking. Understood?” Arizona had gone full-on doctor mode, not leaving anything up to fate. She would be taking everything into her own hands to make sure that her girlfriend got better instead of worse.

Callie sighed and nodded, slightly relieved to have her girlfriend with her. She wasn’t alone, she didn’t have to deal with it on her own, and she had someone to take care of her. The brunette watched as Arizona left the room and began the painstaking process of undressing, her muscles aching in protest with her every move.

She had managed to pull on the sweatpants and get the shirt half off when the other woman returned, a bottle of Nyquil in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. She set her things down on the bedside table and chuckled at he lover's predicament, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Need some help?” She chuckled, moving to pull the shirt off the rest of the way and replace it with the soft cotton one. With the woman changed and sitting in bed, she was now pouting up at her blonde lover.

“I don’t feel good.” The brunette complained, sniffling pathetically. Her cheeks were flushed which was a huge contrast to the pallor of the rest of her skin. As soon as the ‘I’m the toughest person in the room grrr’ attitude wore off, Callie turned into a big baby when she was sick. It was sort of endearing.

“I know Callie. Take this and drink half of that OJ and then you can get some sleep.” Arizona ordered, handing over the small ‘shot glass’ of medicine. The ill woman grimaced and glanced up with a ‘do I have to?’ look on her face that she hoped would work. She forgot that her girlfriend got that look all of the time.

“Nice try, take it.” With a long-suffering sigh, Callie did what she was told, being sure to exaggerate her disgusted expression the whole time.

“You’re mean.” She grumbled, reaching for the orange juice to chase the awful taste of the medicine.

“Yeah, but I’m cute.” Arizona grinned back at her and began to change, pulling her hair out of its ponytail as she climbed back into comfy clothes, fully intending to join her girlfriend.

Callie drank about a quarter of the OJ before she couldn’t do it anymore, her throat protesting against the acidity of the drink. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make Arizona happy, but she just couldn’t drink anymore.

“Alright, I guess that’ll do. Now, you are going to take a nap and I am going to do some work. Sound good?” The blonde wasn’t really looking for an agreement, it was happening whether or not Callie wanted, but thankfully she did.

She curled into the woman’s side as she pulled the blankets over the two of them, opening her laptop as she settled under the covers. The slightly younger surgeon put one hand on the top of Callie’s head, stroking her hair as she typed with one hand, the clack of the keys lulling the sick woman into a sleepy daze.

“‘Zona?” She mumbled, already slurring as she began to fall asleep. Arizona hummed in response, not looking up from her screen. She had files to finish and this was the perfect excuse to catch up on some of the pointless work that she’d been putting off.

“Love you ‘Zona.” She stopped in her work and looked down at the woman by her side, a smile spreading across her lips. Callie was chuckling quietly, her body shaking with quiet laughter.

“I love you too. Now shush, I need to work.” And that was that. Calliope Torres lay with Arizona Robbins, one sleeping fitfully while the other worked. It wasn’t the most glamorous sick day, and it wasn’t the most comfortable, but at least she wasn’t alone. Both would later agree that leaving Callie to roam while she had a fever was definitely not the best idea.

66 notes · View notes

l-e-morgan-author · 7 months

Text

injury

She was… injured, she guessed, as she rolled over and to her feet in one motion. Everything hurt. Her breath was coming quick and short. All this she noted in one moment.

The next moment she saw the space underneath the door, into which a hand had been pressed with desperation, barely fitting. She knew it to be Nathan’s hand, and it was half open.

“Nathan,” Patience said softly, and then she screamed it:

“Nathan!”

And it was with such a note in her voice that she knew that if he was conscious, if he was able, he would reply, and he didn’t.

She waited, took stock of her surroundings, washed in silence. Presently she became aware of a head wound.

That would explain the previous blurring of her memories. Nothing was working quite—her head felt fuzzy and strange. When she touched the side of her head it hurt and her hand came away wet with blood. She was in a bathroom cubicle, on the inside, and the door was locked. Patience spent far too long scowling at it before she figured out the simple mechanism (concussion, probably), and then eased it carefully over Nathan’s hand. He was lying on his back, one arm tossed across his chest and clearly broken, while the other was pressed under the door of the cubicle, and had probably held her hand.

Hmm. That was—odd. Like something strange had happened, but she couldn’t remember it. Last she remembered was—

What was the last thing she remembered? A blow? Yes, that was it: a stranger, punching her so she reeled backwards and then everything went dark. But she wasn’t so injured she couldn’t move, and nor were there certain injuries she might have expected if—

The world swayed before her and presently she discovered she was on her knees, gasping for air. That… wasn’t good. But she was still confident that that hadn’t happened. That was a good thing, at least.

But why was she in a bathroom, Nathan injured, herself injured, him perhaps trying to hold her hand while she’d locked herself in? There was room to get over the top, so it was conceivable her attacker had dragged her in, locked the door and then scrambled out the top. But why?

She thought about lifting Nathan, saw the state of his arm and decided not to. That was doctors’ work.

It took two minutes clumsy fumbling (her arm hurt and was already beginning to bruise) to discover her phone was gone. So, after several more minutes’ examination, was Nathan’s. They’d been—robbed, most likely.

Her head felt like molasses. She hated the smell of the stuff. She hated that she’d thought of it, and now the sticky sweet smell would stay with her.

Patience… wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Was it safe to yell for help? Would anyone hear her cry? She didn’t want to yell and be met with silence. That sounded more devastating than even staying silent.

The world reeled again. That wasn’t a good sign.

Wait. Concussion. What were the signs of concussion? Nathan was unconscious or asleep, maybe passed out due to pain. She probably had a concussion, but she couldn’t remember the signs. Maybe later.

“Nathan,” she said, and this time he stirred. He went white to the lips as he tried to move his broken arm, and cursed a bit.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not sure,” she responded tersely. He didn’t press for details.

She picked up his hand, which looked faraway and strange. Her head hurt. Her vision was tunnelling. That was—not a good sign at all.

So someone had robbed them. Beaten them up, maybe. Broken his arm, knocked them both out. Chemicals involved? Maybe? What was that stuff—chloroform? How did it work?

Patience wasn’t sure, so she didn’t go down that path. “Should I call for help?”

“Yeah, use my phone,” he muttered at her.

“It’s not here. I think they pinched it.” She’d had her keys on her, too… right?

She didn’t know anything anymore. Patience leaned her head back against the wall and winced at the pain that lanced through it. Back of head injury as well as side, then. Fun.

Brain damage: the words kept bouncing around her head. Brain damage. Brain damage. Brain damage. She wasn’t sure why.

“Help!” Patience yelled at last. She wasn’t even sure where they were, and felt too dizzy to go to seek help herself, let alone leaving Nathan lying there with a broken arm. “Help! Help! Help!”

Nathan added his voice, weakly, to her cries, and as she lay down and gasped for breath afterwards she wondered if it had been any good. Then—

“What’s going on here?” asked a voice, and Patience felt such a rush of relief she nearly blacked out.

“I—I—we’re injured,” she stammered. “We need help.”

“You need an ambulance, looks like.” A broad accent, though she couldn’t place where it was from. “I’ll call them.”

Then everything went fuzzy and sort of distant for a while. Afterwards, Patience never remembered that time.

#whump #my writing #patience shepherd #a quiet patience #nathan

19 notes · View notes

she-karev · 5 months

Note

Greys anatomy request- so 20x04 got me hooked on there little family banter of Lucas and Amelia and also showed perfect chance for whump of sick because Lucas look so tired sickly( Anyway sorry rambling) can you do one please where Lucas gets sick with flu or something and he tries push himself to go be interesting work but Amelia stops him and takes care of him please (maybe with little push from Scout cuteness and Link who I think would make great like big brother to Lucas that he needs)

The One Where Lucas Adams is Sick

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Here’s another one shot request I hope this satisfies you Shepherd and whump fans out there.

Canon Episode: Grey’s Anatomy in between Season 20 episode 3 and 4

Summary: Lucas Adams is sick with the flu but tries to work until Amelia, Link and Amber tell him to rest.

Words: 2422

Lucas Adams takes a deep breath outside the elevator doors trying to regain his energy. He woke up this morning feeling like he crawled out of a carnival port a potty. His head feels stuffed with cotton, his nose is clogged and even moving his arm feels like he’s lifting a ton. He knew this was the beginning stages of the flu symptoms and he knows this because his chief resident Amber DeLuca gave a big speech about working during flu season including how doctors have an unspoken rule that when the surgeon stays home a patient suffers as well as the doctors who have to cover for them so with all your might you push through.

He decided to do exactly that and push through the illness that came at the worst possible time. His personal and professional life is a mess right now and he has to crash with his aunt Amelia and cousin Scout. It was difficult at first but eventually they found their rhythm. Now he just has to survive intern year after botching it up so bad. He sniffles when the elevator doors open revealing Amber DeLuca and Amelia Shepherd inside talking as they hold their babies. He quickly goes inside standing a respectable distance from Amber who is holding her 1-year-old daughter Lucy who is in a Winnie the Pooh shortall set with her short dark brown hair in pigtails. Amelia is holding his 3-year-old cousin Scout who is sporting a yellow hoodie and jeans.

“Adams.” He grunts back at his chief resident who looks him over, “You look like hell.”

He chuckles lightly at that blunt comment, “Yeah well, I just got back. It’s the flu but don’t worry I’m pushing through it Dr. DeLuca.” He stops and sneezes into his elbow causing Amber to groan in disgust covering her baby away from his direction, “Sorry.”

Amelia looks at him concerned, “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m sure we can survive without you here there are plenty of interns.”

Amber shakes her head at that, “Over a third of them called in sick this week.” Amelia glares at Amber for encouraging Lucas to stay here, “What? It’s not my fault.”

Lucas clears his throat, “I’ll be fine I’m pushing through it.”

“Well, I put you on the pit today so you should be in your element in the flu warzone.”

Adams groans at that and tries to change it, “Dr. DeLuca if you wouldn’t mind putting me on your service in peds I could really use the hours up there.”

Amber chuckles at that, “If you think I’m gonna let you anywhere around my young and vulnerable patients maybe you should go home because the flu is making you foggy in the head. The pit is where you’re going and if you have a problem with how it interferes with your little checklist you got because you screwed the pooch take it to someone who cares.”

“This is exactly why we call you The Kraken.” Amber glares at Adams comment with her baby in arms that doesn’t diminish her wrath. Amelia purses her lips at this awkward moment and Lucas looks terrified, “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” Amelia tells him.

“Adams, I know you and your class call me The Kraken because I remind you of the mythical creature that destroys ships and drowns sailors. I take no insults in that because kind words for bosses show weakness in their work structure do I come off as weak to you Adams?”

He clears his throat, “No ma’am your as strong as a diamond.” Amelia narrows her eyes at him confused, “I-It’s the hardest rock in the world and even though it gives off a shiny and pretty appearance it can crush your skull with a hard enough whack to the head. Y-You give off that vibe Dr. DeLuca.”

“…Your safe.” Adams exhales relieved, “But your still in the pit and if you feel any worse do your patients a favor and go home.”

“I agree with her, Scout what about you? Do you agree with the mean chief resident about your cousin?” Scout nods at that in an adorable way causing Amelia and Amber to aww at that while Lucas rolls his eyes before sneezing again. The elevator doors open to their relief and they exit with Adams a little worse for wear as he walks to the lockers with Amelia looking on in worry.

4 Hours Later

After countless sutures and prescriptions for antibiotics Adams leans forward against the station on his elbows to close his eyes for a quick moment. He feels like crawling into one of the empty beds in the pit and sleeping for a week but he knows he can’t do that. He was a teenager when his uncle Derek died but the one piece of advice from him he committed to memory was the unspoken rule that surgeons push through. It’s ironic a rule that is supposed to be unspoken has been spoken all over this hospital.

He stands up straight and walks over to his next patient but fumbles on the way causing Link to catch him before he falls to the ground.

“Whoa Adams are you okay?” Link asks as he helps him up, “Did you catch the flu bug too?”

Lucas groans and answers in a nasally voice, “Unfortunately. I’ll be fine though don’t worry you’re not gonna lose another intern.”

“I’m actually more concerned about you dropping dead when you should be resting.” Adams rolls his eyes at Link who chuckles, “Hey I get it man intern year is a beast and with everything that’s going on in your class I get the need to keep going. At least make it until you feel like vomiting because God knows our patients don’t want to be in the crossfire.”

Yasuda walks up to Link wearing a mask, “Dr. Lincoln I already discharged four of the patients with antibiotics and I popped your sprained ankle in bed 7 is there anything else I can do?”

“Just keep doing what your doing Yasuda coordinate with Adams so we can discharge patients faster and leave the pit open for emergencies.” Yasuda rolls her eyes at that command clearly still peeved at Adams for what happened with Bailey’s patient. She turns around scoffing with Link catching whiff and turns to Adams, “What was that about?”

“I kind of snaked a procedure from her after I left her with a patient so I could fill in my hours.” Link raises an eyebrow at that accusingly causing Adams to be defensive, “The patient was coding I was in the room there wasn’t enough time to explain to Dr. Bailey about Yasuda diagnosing the patient I had to act first or the patient would be dead.”

“And after you saved the patient did you explain to Dr. Bailey about how Yasuda did the grunt work while you were off on your procedure hunt?” Adams is silent for a moment confirming his answer, “That’s what I thought. Lucas, I know I’m not technically your uncle since your aunt and I aren’t together anymore but I feel the need to give you tough love like one. If you want to get back in the O.R. then do it the honest way otherwise you’re never gonna be the surgeon you want to be. Besides the way you’re going you really don’t want to piss off your friends right now.”

Lucas sighs, “Do you think this is why Amber DeLuca hates me?”

“She hates anybody she perceives as a spoiled brat who didn’t work as hard as she did. And you screwing up a lot in the beginning doesn’t help your case.”

Lucas shakes head at his misfortune, “So basically I’m screwed.”

“Your only screwed if you let yourself get screwed. And the way to do that is to keep pushing through and doing your job until you feel like passing out.”

“Okay.” Lucas walks a few feet away from Link until he stumbles a little as his stomach takes an even worse turn. He catches himself on the bed that feels so good against his hands. He crawls up to the bed and lies on his side in a fetal position holding his stomach and groaning in agony. He closes his eyes for a minute until the sweet sensation of slumber takes him. While he is sleeping Link watches from a distance in amusement as well as Amber who sighs.

“He lasted longer than I thought he would.”

Link nods, “Yasuda set up a patient room for him with an iv of LR and 4 milligrams of Zofran.”

Mika snaps her gloves off frustrated, “Do you want me to give him the deluxe treatment package as well?”

Amber glares at Yasuda, “Yasuda.” Mika walks away after that stern tone of voice.

ONE HOUR LATER

Lucas slowly opens his eyes that feel like their glued shut. His sight slowly returns to normal making him see that instead of the pit he’s in a patient room but the view tells him he’s in the bed. He sits up groaning at the muscle aches and feels a small hand touch his shoulder.

“Try not to overexert yourself.” He turns his head to find Amelia by his side. He sighs at his continued misfortune but slumps back into bed, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by an 18-wheeler.”

“Yeah, the flu will do that to you.” He looks to his right and is surprised to see Amber DeLuca here as well checking on his monitor and IV, “You were dehydrated so Link and I had Yasuda set up an IV for you.”

Lucas tries to sit up, “Great I can get back to the pit while carrying this IV around.”

“Stay!” Amelia’s stern voice startles him but he does what she says, “Now Lucas, you toughed it out for four hours but at some point, you reach your limit. I did when I got sick intern year and I’m sure your chief resident has too.”

Lucas scoffs at that thinking she is just trying to soften the blow, “Yeah? Did you crawl into a bed at the pit and get in a fetal position?”

“I threw up on my mentor’s new shoes that he bragged about and spent that night facedown in the toilet in shame and pain.” Lucas looks surprised by his aunt’s story causing her to grin, “It felt like when I was in withdrawal only more humiliating.”

“That is bad.” He turns to Amber, “What about you? Did you get sick intern year?”

“Karev’s don’t get sick.” Amelia chuckles at Amber’s tough attitude, “It’s a prideful trait of ours, what we lack in sunny dispositions we make up for in strong immune systems. But that doesn’t mean you should work today after you passed out, you hung tough Adams take pride in that while you rehydrate and eat awful chicken soup from a can. Yasuda will be back to check on you later.” The mention of Yasuda brings him back to the subject he and Link talked about. Amber is by the door when his conscience catches up to him.

“Dr. DeLuca?” Amber turns back to Lucas who clears his throat before starting, “Last week before me and Dr. Bailey operated on Dorian Cardenas…it was Yasuda who made the abdominal compartment syndrome diagnosis not me.” Amber looks at him in surprise as well as Amelia, “I was busy trying to get more hours for my procedure logs and Yasuda was by his bedside all day. She was getting a cutdown tray while I was in the room when Dr. Bailey came in and told me to assist her in the ex-lap. I didn’t have time to explain while our patient was coding but I have time now to tell you and make sure she gets credit where credit is due. I’m sorry.”

Amber looks disappointed at first but it diminishes a second later, “When your attending gives you an assignment to monitor a patient you monitor him. Your lucky as hell that Yasuda was there or you would have left him alone for a treasure hunt and you’d be under a mountain of litigations. Again.” Lucas nods taking the scorn with Amelia standing by also disappointed in him, “Now if you weren’t sick, I would give you such a painful ass kicking that your grandkids would feel it. What I can do is tell you to do better. Your already at rock bottom Adams you have nowhere to go but up.” He sighs at that, “Now thank you for telling me and I will be sure to tell Bailey about this. As well as taking back the credit you got from that ex lap and giving it to Yasuda instead.” He groans at that step back, “It was your choice to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to rick Yasuda poisoning my IV.” Amber nods at that, “Plus I can’t afford to have all of my peers hate me.”

“They already hate you.” Lucas chuckles lightly at that, “Nowhere to go but up Adams and I respect a guy who admitted his dumbass mistake and ask for forgiveness than a soulless jackass who sharked a friend.”

Lucas raises an eyebrow at that statement and turns to Amelia, “Did she give me a compliment? It’s really hard to tell with her.”

Amelia shrugs, “I honestly can’t tell with her either.”

“I’m not the warm and fuzzy type, blame it on my brothers.” Amber exits the room leaving Adams stumped on his enigmatic chief resident.

“Was your chief resident that…complex?” Amelia chuckles at that question.

“No but then again I didn’t have a hot woman in charge who could rip my head off with her bare hands.” Amelia looks at the clock and realizes she’s off work, “Do you want me to pick you up some soup from that Chinese restaurant you like so much? It’s better than that canned crap.”

Lucas sighs and wants to tell his aunt he’s not a child but his hunger calls to him and the soup is the best in all of Seattle, “Can you add some fried dumplings too?”

“I was gonna get that for myself but I guess I can share. I’ll be right back.” Amelia covers his upper torso with a blanket and squeezes his shoulder in comfort before leaving him to get him that chicken soup he so clearly wants and needs.

#greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greysedit #greysanatomyedit #lucas adams #amelia shepherd #link #one shot request #oneshot #whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whump community

11 notes · View notes

castielmoriarty · 6 months

Text

holy shit I can't believe they held him down so violently it left marks and is causing him to actually limp? jfc. I agree it's karma while also feeling very sorry for him while also enjoying my men bruised and in pain. :)

#my heart: no :(#other parts of me: yes :)#whump #carter shepherd #hollyoaks #text post

16 notes · View notes

mari-beau · 2 months

Link

Author's Note: I wrote half this fic in one sitting but it took awhile to get the rest of it out. I still love it though. I think I like writing Platonic!Besties Kristin/Daniel just as much as writing them as a romantic couple. Probably because in both scenarios I can't help but write them as each other's person. It feels like it fits the canon (probably becase they give us so little of their personal lives outside of each other).

Fandom: The Brokenwood Mysteries

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences (for peril)

Relationships: Daniel Chalmers & Kristin Sims friendship, but could be read as romantic if you want)

Characters: Kristin Sims, Daniel Chalmers, Mike Shepherd

Series: Part 4 of The Misadventures of Brokenwood CIB

Summary: A 'Misadventures of Brokenwood CIB' One-Shot. When D.S. Kristin Sims and D.C. Daniel Chalmers are thrown into a life-threatening situation, Kristin realizes how much her friend means to her and how hard she's willing to fight for him.

#The Brokenwood Mysteries #fanfiction #fanfic #Kristin Sims #Daniel Chalmers #Mike Shepherd #whump #fear of shark #platonic love #friendship #peril

2 notes · View notes

8-rae-rae-8 · 9 months

Text

Yes, General.

Graves x Shepard

Ongoing, 3/? Chapters

Tags and warnings under the cut

Sexual Assault, Non Explicit, Drugging, Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pervert general Shepard, Phillip Graves Needs a Hug (Call of Duty), Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Sex Addiction, Addiction, Graves falls for manipulation, Author Has Only Watched Other People Play Call of Duty, Philip Graves whump, Dom/sub Undertones, Non-Explicit Sex, Graves throws money at his problems, the shadows are concerned (call of duty), Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Vomiting, Fucked Up, Sickness

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #cod mwii #graves x shephard #tw r@pe #tw drugs #tw vomit #tw whump #philip graves whump #philip graves #general shepherd

3 notes · View notes

hold-him-down · 1 year

Text

not to make two cat posts in one day, but it turns out both robert (left) and vladislav (right) fuck with prison whump wowowowwowow.

#prison whump #not whump #oz #did i ever tell yall i had an australian shepherd from like 2007 - 2022 named oz #and everyone assumed he was named because ozzie/aussie thing #but he was really named after oswald state penitentiary center #i seldom corrected people tho

11 notes · View notes

whumpster-dumpster · 9 months

Note

What do you think of whumpee couples? Like a pair of romantic partners who were injured in the same battle, or from different circumstances at the same time so they spend a lot of time healing together and simultaneously being each other’s caretakers

Highly underrated trope imo

I like it, there's enough whump to go around!

#whump #multiple whumpees #answered ask #sketch-shepherd

105 notes · View notes

waywardwizzard · 3 months

Text

After a while they all gathered in the cargo bay, the rain outside turning the whole landscape grey.

Captain Zoë Washburne stared at his her crew, her eyes dark with grief.

It didn't feel right standing where he usually did.

She cleared her throat, looking each of them in the eye.

They were 8 instead of 9. It didn't feel right.

"The Shepherd and I thought it a good idea to stay here. Just for a little while, 'til the rain clears up and we can give him a burial. A proper one."

"There's a place where we can bury him," Jayne suddenly said, his ma's hat clutched in his hands, "He'll be able to see the stars from there and everything."

Zoë nodded, her throat tight. "He would have liked that."

"Kaylee and I can fold stars to throw in," Inara murmured, "I know he didn't like the whole 'throwing petals into a grave' thing but..."

She ran a shaking hand through Kaylee's hair, her eyes reflecting exactly how the captain felt. How they all felt.

Funerals were for the living after all.

"And I can help Jayne dig," Wash added, taking his wife's hand in his, frowning when he saw that her knuckles were bruised.

Shaking her head slightly, she caught Simon's gaze. The doctor glanced at River, both siblings' eyes red, blood still sluggishly trickling down his spilt lip.

"River and I - we can probably - "

"Who died?" a voice asked from the open cargo bay door, pain lacing each word.

Zoë couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.

"You did, sir. Seems like it didn't stick, though."

Captain Malcolm Reynolds, soaking wet with a hand clamped over the wound in his side, smirked and swayed.

" 'course not, I'm too pretty to die."

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

Author's note -

Is this an unofficial sequel to Febuwhump Day 23? Yes yes it is.

Am I proud of it? Sort of.

One day I'll write the whole fic but I just *needed* to get this idea out of my head so sorry about the quality.

@juneofdoom

13 notes · View notes

whump-it-like-its-hot · 11 months

Note

TELL ME STUFF ABOUT A RANDOM CHARACTER RN

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

You rolled number…2, so, drumroll,

Knut Bjerke

Oh, where do I even start about him. Technically, he isn’t even alive at the current point in time. However, I will make exceptions to this rule :)

Knut is Agender and doesn’t really mind any pronouns, but usually sticks to He for the sake of simplicity. He’s Ace and also autistic, so basically a Triple A Battery <3

They were Loki’s partner when they were still alive, before they got murdered in cold blood. (Rumors say the incident involved a chicken nugget…)

Knut was most recently training to become a paramedic. He genuinely believes that there’s something good in every person, and does his best to bring that out. However, he also tends to be kind of a doormat. Other than that…he’s extremely allergic to walnuts. And he knows danish and british sign language. In whump, he usually plays a caretaker role, or rarely a whumpee.

#whump #whump community #I KNOW WHO YOU ARE #ENJOY KNUT LORE YOU ALREADY KNEW LMAO #BUT YAH HERE’S HIS INTRODUCTION EVERYONE #NOW ENJOY #funfact when I first created him he was supposed to b like this. punky rebellious character #but all that stuck from back then is the long hair and choker and a couple of piercings #also I literally created him as a dead character lmfao #like. I knew Loki had a partner that got killed so I randomly decided to create him #His name was a placeholder as well #ANOTHER FUNFACT he smells like popcorn #and he reminds me of Knut the ice bear #And he had a pet dog #an Australian shepherd called Zodiac #she’s still doing well tho! she’s living with Knut’s dad #he’s also a proficient archer tho he onl does it for the sport and fun aspect #because he’s vegetarian #YEAH IMMA STOP NOW LMAO EVEN THO THERES LIKE 572957205 MORE #officially starting a Knut tag now too #Knutposting #:)

2 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 3 months

Text

Lost Fic #188

1. hello! i would like to ask for help finding a fic of aziraphale having a cottage (on a cliff, i think?) where he spends time living as a human shepherd? i found it a few days ago but i think it's a pre-s2 fic but now it's lost to me bc i didn't open it on my history 💀 thank you!!! - @cuntbrow

2. So, I remember reading a fic some time ago, but I just can't find it again Beware, it's explicit So, basically, Aziraphale's semen is holy and it burns Crowley, but Crowley is into it? I remember possibly a bj scene? Overall, I think Crowley was hiding the fact that it hurts him, so that Aziraphale wouldn't put and end to them having sex. - anon

3. Hi! I’m looking for a fic ;-; It’s Aziraphale whump in which Crowley & Aziraphale are walking together, reach a church and Aziraphale ends up in his true form (which is painful and probably destroys a few things). He ends up in heaven somehow, and (I think?) Crowley rescues him. Was rated G/T/No rating and found on AO3. A oneshot, I believe Thank you so much <3 this blog is a godsend - @the-pinnacle-of-perishing

4. Hello! I recently found a fanfic on tumblr that’s actually on archive of our own but I can’t remember the name of it. It was post season two where Aziraphale is in heaven and Lucifer demands Crowley to find Aziraphale and kill him even though he is in love with Aziraphale? Thanks! - @nowheregirl1965

5. Hello, first of all,I love your blog,I think I read my way through most of it, thanks a lot for the service you provide . I’m looking for a fic about the arrangement through the ages and in one of the chapters, Aziraphale and Crowley are at a ball, Aziraphale gets jealous for some reasons and they end up sparring with swords, musketeers style, and at the end Crowley assures Aziraphale that “he doesn’t have any other arrangements”. This is probably a bit specific but I reallyhope you can help me, - @doodlingbreak

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d

72 notes · View notes

soullessdianthus · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘

Summary: Reader's everyday life had been turned upside down since she had been recruited to Ghost's team. As a young, but prominent soldier she had to face many obstacles, but there was one in particular that made her blood boil ━ Commander Phillip Graves of Shadow Company. Little did she knew, that the blonde man with angelic was face going to make her suffer and bleed, wishing for the embrace of Death to swallow her whole. Y/C ━ your callsign Also posted on my ao3 ⟶ 𝕏

A/N: Basically, a whump where Graves is torturing the Reader after trying to frame her for a federal crime. Then Ghost finds out. Dark themes ahead.

Warnings: graves, canon typical violence (blood, guns, implied sexual harrasment), gore (desc. of tortures), angst, some sprinkles of comfort at the end

Word count: 7.6k

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄

For as long as you could remember, the commander of Shadow Company made you feel uneasy. At first, you couldn’t precisely determine what was wrong – with him or you. There was this strange feeling, an odd hunch regarding Phillip Graves. Thank God, you didn’t work for him.

The whole collaboration thing that General Shepherd had with them was bizarre. A private military company? As far as you knew, they were called mercenaries, not some elitist soldier group. Their commander was oddly loyal to the general, it almost seemed like their bonds were far more complicated than a paycheck.

Soon enough you realized he was his executioner, a war criminal literally.

But your colleagues kept chastising you for making such hideous assumptions about higher ranks. You rather quickly learned not to share too much of your personal opinion with the other cadets.

Thereby, your voice of reason and concerns were sealed within your own mind, left to take roots. Particularly when you sat on your own on the side of the training grounds just after lunch break. Your gaze was focused on the fellow soldiers battling with the obstacle course, although your thoughts kept spinning in a never ending cycle – analyzing the latest mission, what happened step by step, what went wrong, what you had done poorly.

That was your key to survival – repeating the excellently executed tasks and never letting yourself slip up. Because there won’t be a second chance.

Some may say that you were an overthinker. That such shredding of each event into smaller pieces might mess up with your brain or worse – sanity.

But who the fuck cared about your sanity in a military? All of them had their hands tainted with blood, all of you had done some things that a perfectly ordinary person would find atrocious.

And sometimes you were ashamed of that. There was a time, at the beginning of your service where you couldn’t face your God at all. The evening prayers ceased, as the shame pooling in you forbade you from reciting the lines.

In spite of that, what wise people used to say that “time heals wounds” became your truth. You reconciled that death would be following you no matter where you would go. And each day, over and over you tried to omit feeding her greedy pit of a stomach.

Until you met Graves – in many ways he resembled your friend reaper. But he was far from being a friend. Mowing the fields of living, leaving corpses behind – “claw one’s way” was his motto. But there was a charming shell of a man that many seemed to fall for.

A soft, rounded face covered with shallow frowns and not so many scars. Short, yellow hair kept impeccably brushed to the side, beard usually trimmed or shaved. And those piercing eyes of his. Phillip’s glance balanced on the edge of calmness and hatred. Only thanks to his brows could you tell the difference.

Some of your colleagues from the cadet group stalked behind you into the shower room as soon as you returned from the latest mission, still drenched in sweat and the scent of war. Pestering, but not about you of course.

Since you passed all of the tests, you were amongst the few lucky ones that got introduced to the lieutenant's team. It wasn’t just any ordinary lieutenant, it was Ghost. Infamous man who wore a skull mask. Belonging to his division felt like joining some exclusive special forces. Which, in a way, was true.

But at the end of the day, you were just a private. You have heard from your current superiors that you might have the potential to make it to sergeant in the next few years. Only if you stay alive, that is. So therefore it became your priority.

Another week began, but you stopped counting days in the calendar. Every morning when you woke up, you checked the temperature and the schedule for the day. The decision of not tracing the days of the week seemed more… soothing. You were not counting the days until your demise, so what was the point of knowing if it was the third or fourth of the month?

Within the short period of time you have spent in the army you learned that time is the most precious thing in the world. The minutes, the seconds of you breathing in and out, devouring the essence of living.

Time was fleeting and you were ready to do everything, not to let it slip away.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

As the new week started, a new mission was approaching. All you knew was where to report, in what type of gear with what kind of weapon. You were just a private after all. So when you happened to find yourself, sitting on the bench amongst the fellow soldiers, his raspy voice echoed like war drums. The thuds of Ghost’s steps synchronized with the beating of your heart and the loud sways of helo’s propellers.

There it was – the adrenaline. The sweet hormone that kept you going.

Tonight’s objective was crystal clear – ambush, then break in the building and search through it, looking for a man called Barnet. He was a federal agent, yet allegedly he was involved with illegal weapons dealing in and beyond the country’s borders. Now, he hired some mercenaries to protect his ass. Your group, with the help of Shadows, was supposed to capture that man alive for further investigation.

After another happy landing, you abandoned the helo and walked toward the gathering point where some Shadows were already standing. To your misfortune, Phillip was standing beside them.

And until your last step, you tried to manifest that he wouldn’t notice you this time. Well, the universe wasn’t too indulgent for you lately.

━ There she is!

“Oh, fuck me, everything but not him again”, you thought to yourself, making your way to the rest of the group. Your fingers clenched tightly over the M4 rifle you were carrying.

━ Commander.

You tried to keep a professional facade, referring to him with his rank. There was no time for a small talk as the clock was ticking.

━ It have been a while, wasn’t it? ━ Graves turned his body towards you, causing a dozen of eyes landing over your frame. Somehow, the tactical vest and your equipment began weighing on under their curious looks. The lieutenant’s was the heaviest of them. ━ Let me tell you something, doll. I’ve never thought I’d meet someone colder than Ghost here. Are you always like this, huh?

━ I’m not cold. Just focused on my job, sir.

He kept drilling a hole into your soul by looking a little too long to your liking with his blue eyes. They were the color of the ocean, of the sea you missed so much. God, how long was it since you last let the waves splash over your ankles?

━ That’s appreciated, soldier.

Only then he returned to evaluating the situation with Ghost. In a matter of seconds you were supposed to enter the battlefield. Therefore you had to get your act together.

Breath in and breathe out. Try to focus on the commands, but count the prime numbers in your head at the same time. The simple mathematics helped you in distress. At least the technique helped with your panic attacks through the years prior.

Within the next twenty minutes you found yourself with one of your teammates, callsign Omen, on their way, clearing out the second floor, left wing of the building. Since he was physically bigger than his partner, it was you who was going first. In case of need, you would quickly disappear behind the corner – you weren’t as easy to spot as he was.

The building itself seemed to resemble a school or some sort of city council – the countless hallways and rooms made it an ideal layout for a shoutout with the enemy. Apparently, from what the two of you heard through the radio, Ghost was right after the target. It meant the mission was about to end.

Mrs. Laswell was right, calling it an “in and out” type of operation. All that was left to do was to keep your position until your lieutenant captured the objective.

Because there was no sign of the opponent’s forces nearby, you and Omen split to sweep through the rooms departing from the long hallway. Perhaps, hiding some mercenaries?

You found yourself standing in front of the locked doors. Your heart slowed down by now, your body wanting to refuse to stay in combat mode. With a few firm kicks, you broke down the blocked doors to find yourself facing… an office or an archive.

The room had no windows and it was almost dark inside, the light from the hallway illuminating the interior. An uneasy sensation creeping up your spine. Plans and stacks of files laying on the table’s surface, pulling you closer. Hanging board, closed laptop still plugged in and a pot of recently brewed coffee.

In that moment, as you stepped inside the room, you sealed your fate. Your curiosity became your doom, but you didn’t know that yet.

As your gaze wandered through some handwritten notes on the board, you heard a clunking sound of a metal bin rolling next to you on the ground. For some time you couldn’t register what exactly happened.

Suddenly you began to run through the hallway, before “the bin” exploded. The recoil of the grenade made you stumble forward until your knees and fists hit the concrete ground.

For a moment there was silence. Blissful silence.

Then the muffled thuds of someone’s steps blended with the squeaking noise ringing in your both ears. The fear pooled in your stomach, causing you to gasp for fresh air. You only noticed their presence as you saw the tip of their shoes right in your face.

The vision in front of your eyes was blurry, the image shaking uncontrollably. It felt almost like you were drunk, but you were clearly not. You were very much sober.

The tight straps of your helmet dug into your head and temple like they were squeezing your brain out. The helmet weighed down on your poor head, so you tried to take it off – fingers awkwardly struggling with the straps.

The person standing in front of you grabbed you by your arm and helped you get on your feet. Then another set of arms wrapped around your back, but this touch was different – you knew this one belonged to Omen. A colleague, a friend.

Your heart was swaddled with warmth for a minute, until the other person decided to open their big mouth.

━ Come on, doll, we’re leaving. ━ A familiar, southern accent almost made your blood boil.

If God was real, he was clearly turning your life into a comedic spectacle of misery. Of all the possibilities it had to be him.

━ Can you walk? ━ Omen asked and it was the first thing you registered correctly. The buzzing noise finally freed your eardrums, now leaking with blood. You nodded, but his hand was still belaying behind you. ━ What was that?

━ Some pre-installed grenade, I think.

“Or someone rolled it beneath my feet”, you thought about that being a possibility too. You always considered other scenarios. It wasn’t your first encounter with an explosive, you knew the pre-installed ones usually weren’t rolling down the ground and you hadn’t nudged any cord.

Besides, how come the Shadows and Graves suddenly happened to be there?

Maybe your friends were right and you have already lost your sanity. Perhaps you went absolutely crazy, but that madness made you want to place together the sequence of events. You needed to understand what happened, because something was off.

And there he was, walking on your right – Commander Graves, the reaper. It seemed that him and his Shadows were escorting the two of you to the gathering point as you were still numb after the explosion. He walked with his chin high, eyes sparkling with confidence after a successful mission. The aura that surrounded him made you feel like a prisoner of a warhound.

Why?

Everything following “your salvation” blended together into one mush. Omen was a good friend of yours and he made sure you were not seriously injured. Only when the two of you sat on the bench inside the helo, you told him the whole truth.

━ There was something in that room. Something important. Papers.

━ And they secured the evidence by destroying it with that grenade? ━ He was quick to follow your pattern of thinking, but it still wasn’t enough. You had a feeling it wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

At the end of the day, Barnet got arrested and by this time he should be escorted by the Shadow Company to the FBI associated facility, meanwhile Ghost’s team was on their way back to the base. Everything from now on should have felt steady.

But it didn’t.

━ Wounded? ━ Lieutenant interrupted the conversations that were being held between the teammates.

━ Survivor of grenade here, sir. ━ Omen pointed at your bloodied earlobes, the dried liquid staining your neck. As the tall Britishman approached, you sent your colleague a death stare – you didn’t need his attention like this. You were alive, therefore no one should worry.

━ Can you hear? ━ Ghost leaned over his knees to reach your level, his dark irises looking over you to search for far more serious wounds. You nodded after making sure your hearing was intact. ━ Then you’ll be fine, Y/C.

He patted your shoulder before turning around to take his own seat. How lovely of him, a very worried superior he was.

During your way back to the base, you tried to calm your own thoughts. There was a need to stop them from crushing over you, your head still hurt like hell. For the first time in a good while, the thoughts felt overwhelming rather than helpful. You tried to brush them off, but it was unsuccessful.

You really needed to lay down and rest. A cup of tea would be lovely.

When the helo landed on the grounds of the British Army’s facilities and everyone slowly was walking away to take a shower and rest, you stayed behind going at your own pace.

And so did Ghost. A lone wolf.

━ Sir? ━ The masked man hummed, joining you on a walk to the barracks. ━ Would you find some time for me tomorrow? I really need to talk to you about the operation and the explosion.

━ It’s related?

━ I think so, yes, sir.

━ You think? Are you sure, you’re not wastin’ my time, Y/C?

It took a moment for you to reply, but now you were entirely sure. Your gut feeling never failed you before.

━ I would never waste time of a lieutenant, sir. I’m sure about that. ━ You tried to conceal the smirk twisting corners of your lips, but it became almost impossible with Ghost’s stupid questions. So you played along.

━ Alright, we’ll figure somethin’ out. Now, take a good rest and watch that head of yours, private. Don’t lose it.

Ghost could be funny sometimes, if you got to know him a little better. And of course, if he didn’t eat you earlier on – he could be an incarnation of a Behemoth himself sometimes. Even you were afraid of him at first, but that fear grew into a familiarity.

Little did you know that you were being watched by a shadow as you spoke with your superior. The all-seeing gaze already began consuming your poor, oblivious soul. You already were a victim of his mischievous plan.

Yet, you still had a chance for an absolution.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

A warm shower, good sleep and a few pills of paracetamol was all you needed to regain most of your strength after the latest mission. Despite a new day beginning, sun hovering over the horizon, your head or rather thoughts were coming back to the events of last night. Nervously picking up the cuticles and pinching your own skin, trying to let go of that obsession.

Yes, obsession. It became pathetically weird at this point, you had no physical evidence to show your superior. Perhaps, you were just overreacting or your mind got to the breaking point?

None of that. You shook your head to the sides, brushing the fragility and doubts away.

You were not weak, if you happened to be in his team. Ghost’s team. You were observant, noticing the smallest details – the superiors commented, after the successful recruitment to special forces.

A voice of reason led you to the women’s bathroom and straight to the sinks. At this time of the day, the facility was empty, so you enjoyed the silence and loneliness. You turned on the tap, before splashing your face with cold water.

“Breathe in and out, soldier”, you instructed yourself.

As you calmed down a little, you dried off your face with paper towels. Soon after, you found yourself on the way to Ghost’s office. While you were walking down the hallway, you noticed the presence of Shadows. They were still sticking around. Just, you didn’t know why and probably won’t even know – you were only a private after all.

So to ease your curiosity, you decided to believe they were here for another collaboration. You shouldn’t be so nosy – that’s what your mother used to tell you, when she caught you eavesdropping on a conversation you were not supposed to hear.

━ Good morning, sunshine!

Graves suddenly placed his palm onto your shoulder, causing you to flinch. Fuck, you almost never flinched. Its weight felt abnormally heavy on your body, just like he was pulling you down hills with him – back to the gates of hell.

━ Jesus Christ ━ you murmured quietly, barely audible. Your eyes shooting up to him, smiling like an idiot ━ are you scaring everyone like this?

━ Not particularly, no ━ Phillip grinned, exposing his pearly white teeth. ━ Would you mind going for a walk with me, soldier? There is… a matter we have to discuss.

━ To be honest, I was on the way to my lieutenant’s office.

━ Why?

When he asked you this simple, one-worded question, you knew Graves was playing a sort of game with you – trying to squeeze as much information out of you, before you realized. But you were far from naive, you were an equal player in the game of shadows.

There were no obligations towards the commander, he wasn’t a part of the army. So therefore, you decided to bluntly lie.

━ I don’t know, he called me in this morning.

━ Bet he can wait a lil’ longer. Come on, I’ll take the blame, sugar.

For a couple of seconds you stayed behind, rethinking the decision you've already made. But then your legs aligned with the pace of his steps. The bold curiosity drove your actions. You decided to follow him outside of the building for a walk.

It was quite a nice day outside. Clouds covered the blue sky, but it didn’t seem to be raining until the evening. It was pleasantly warm, a little too dry to your liking as the dust floating off the ground dirtied your trousers.

The two of you followed the path near the fence between the storage buildings – armory, garages. Captain Price liked to call it a dumpster and he was right about that.

The silence that fell between you two wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the pure anticipation of the other person’s next move – will he start a small talk? Because you wouldn’t. Or maybe Phillip would be straightforward with you? But about what exactly?

━ So ━ you finally spoke out, letting your hands collapse at your sides ━ what was so important that had my superior to wait?

Your gaze landed on his face, searching for any tiny spasms of facial muscles. You needed something to work with. To figure him out.

━ I could have asked you the same question.

━ I already told you, sir – I don’t know why the lieutenant called me in.

━ No? ━ Graves suddenly stopped and turned his whole body towards you. A truly natural response was to face him too. ━ Weren’t you two talking in private yesterday? Following the return to the base, no?

━ Ghost was worried about my ears, I was bleeding after the explosion. You saw it yourself, sir. Why does it matter anyway?

He had the audacity to speak freely, to admit, that he had kept an eye on you yesterday. The arising question on your mind was: why? Why was he monitoring you?

━ You two seem to be quite close. ━ Graves continued poking the hornet’s nest.

━ He’s my lieutenant.

It took every inch of your willpower to withhold the fastened beating of your heart. You couldn’t be delusional, not right now. Ghost was just your superior.

━ Is he though? You make me wonder ━ he turned his head to the right, before clicking with his tongue. On purpose Phillip was keeping you on edge, waiting before you finally snap ━ if he plays a part of this venture. Is Ghost also involved?

━ What the fuck are you talking about?

You finally raised your voice at Graves, annoyance flooding your veins. Nothing coming out of his mouth made sense, he was wasting your time here.

━ I’m afraid you’ve been caught red-handed, sugar. Trying to destroy the evidence of your contribution to illegal weapon trafficking. Some money on the side, huh?

You snorted, amused by this sickening accusation. And until now, you thought your deductions were childish and foolish. Until Commander Graves opened his mouth, spilling more nonsense.

━ You think I planted the grenade? That’s bullshit, Graves. You ━ you took a step forward and your pointing finger dug into the material of his tactical vest, just above the dip between the collarbones ━ were there. You saw everything.

The last sentence came out more of a whisper, carefully threatening him that you knew he was fucking around with you. But he had orders to complete. The commander of Shadow Company would do everything for the sake of good fucking show.

━ ‘m afraid I have to take you for further interrogation, soldier.

Graves suddenly grabbed your forearm with a force you would never expect he would bare. At that moment you were confused, standing between a rock and a hard place – should you obediently follow him for “a talk” or should you resist his actions? Phillip was not your boss, he wasn’t in place of authority.

But, there was a hesitation if you should punch him or not.

━ You can’t do that without my superior presence. ━ You struggled against his grip, looking around and searching for any witnesses. To your misfortune, again, there was none. The training grounds were empty.

━ See ━ he managed to pull you with him, while he made his way to the magazine nearby ━ this is a military rule, princess. It has nothing to do with me.

Graves was playing dirty, when he finally dragged you inside the empty hall. You clung to the both sides of his vest, before smashing your forehead against his face. The blonde man stumbled backwards, cursing loudly, calling you all sorts of names. It had to hurt like a bitch, if all might Phillip Graves was whining like a little boy kicked in the balls.

━ You little– Fuck!

You tried to pass by him, before one of his Shadows revealed his presence, standing between you and the doors. Then another man emerged from the darkness, until you counted three of them in total.

“Great”, you thought.

A deep breath of not so fresh air filled your lungs. A hint of moisture hit your nostrils, while your sight was still getting accustomed to the dim lighting of the hall. Slowly you began to worry as you happened to be cornered by the Shadows with no one by your side. It made you vulnerable – like a wounded animal to a vulture.

━ What is this really about? ━ A simple question was asked, when you carefully tried to back out as far from the reach of his loyal soldiers. The situation was getting far more intense than you thought.

━ You’re related to Barnet’s scandal or at least you're messing up the evidence, all I have to hear is a confirmation.

Commander, whose hands were dirtier than anyone you knew, wanted you to confess. Ironic, wasn’t it?

━ Don’t make this harder than it has to be, doll ━ Graves wiped his bloody nose with a material of his sleeve, slowly walking in circle around you, a lamb to the slaughter ━ just face the consequences of your own actions.

━ You know it’s not true. I have nothing to confirm, sir.

If you were the same person you were years ago, you would fidget with your silver medallion. Praying for courage in a situation like this, facing the personification of evil. But that necklace was laying forgotten in the abyss of your drawer.

The painful truth was, you were left all alone in an uneven fight.

━ I was afraid you would say so.

With the slightest nod of his head you noticed the change in soldiers’ stance. They were about to charge at you and that familiar, eerie feeling in your bones. So you did all that you could to prepare for the upcoming attack.

When the first soldier swung with his clenched fist towards your face, you swiftly managed to avoid it. Then, you succeed another time. But by omitting the hits you wouldn’t last long, so the next strike had to be blocked.

Your forearm acted as a shield, when you tried to charge forward the Shadow. The second soldier joined the brawl, kicking you in the back of your knee. The punch in the joint made you stumble.

You decided to push away the first opponent and then with all your body mass, pin the second Shadow to the ground. Your arms wrapped around his thighs and you fell onto the soldier with a thud, punching his jaw with your clenched fist.

The adrenaline made your nervous system numb to the pain you inflicted upon yourself. If not for the blood staining his jawline, you wouldn’t notice when your knuckles began to bleed.

As soon as the pinned Shadow’s hands gripped your waist tightly, trying to push you off, you knew the outcome of the fight. Even if you had an upper hand for a split moment. There was no magical foreseeing – a simple conclusion told you, that you against the three of them was an already sealed result.

But you had to put up a fight – you wouldn’t allow yourself to cross the gates of heaven or any other sort of afterlife if you hadn’t tried.

A sudden yank on your hair, made you cry out and fall off the soldier laying on the ground. Before you managed to get up, the third Shadow, until now standing still and watching, kicked you in your ribs. And then another time.

And another.

You stumbled to the side of your thigh, gripping the aching side of your bones and flesh, blood spilling beneath the surface of your smooth skin. Breathing, such a fundamental ability to live, became harder with each passing second.

Your mouth fell agape, greedily trying to swallow some air, searching for a boost of energy.

The three demons abused your position on the ground as they began kicking you around – aiming for your stomach, ribs, arms. It almost felt like you were their soccer ball.

Graves stood tall near the raging chaos with his arms crossed over the tactical vest. Only when one of his puppets smacked you across the face, causing you to fall onto your stomach, he intervened.

━ Not in the face, idiot! She’s quite pretty, isn’t she? Would be such a waste to permanently mutilate such a face.

The blonde man crouched down and gripped your jaw, taking a closer look at the red mark pulsating on your cheek. It seemed that he was savoring the hurt look on his victim. The commander smirked, finally acknowledging the fear in your eyes.

The taste of copper spreaded over your tongue, it felt disgusting and made you lightheaded. Only then the pain they inflicted on you began to sink in, causing all of your limbs to become extremely warm. Almost like the tongues of flames were dancing over your skin.

If the Shadows kill you that night, will you become a martyr? Or would you be remembered as a traitor as Graves wanted to?

They swept you off the floor, upholding your fragile body by hooking under your armpits. Your head craved to hang low, but your consciousness needed to follow their movements, trying to predict what they would do to you next.

━ I don’t like repeating myself, soldier, but I’ll give you another chance ━ Graves leaned in front of you, his hands resting upon his thighs. He became irritated that you hadn’t broken already ━ were you involved with Barnet or his partners in smuggling the federal weapons?

━ I’m just a private, you fucking fuck! ━ You spat out the truth, brows narrowing close to your eyelashes. ━ I. Did. Not.

His blue gaze wandered somewhere behind your back. Graves nodded and a sudden wave of stabbing pain spreaded around your kidneys. You cried out, spine arching, pathetically trying to escape the ache.

Then they would give you a few seconds of break, you trying to breathe through the pain. But the cycle would continue as the Shadow behind your back kept electrocuting you over and over and over.

The motherfuckers tased you. And they would not stop until you were a panting mess, limp within their hold. Poor mind of yours fried, barely holding onto the debrises of sanity.

When your body reached some sort of limit and your vision became blurry, you really began to think you were to die tonight. In a matter of hours, you would have to face your friend – death and let her mock you for such an early encounter.

But at least, you would not die untruthful to yourself.

Within the next couple hours, when your consciousness was wandering between the limbo of the Sandman’s realm and the reality, you gradually managed to understand the truth.

That night during the operation Barnet, you saw something you never should have. The office and the crumbles of it. There was something inside so fragile and precious that made a person in a position of power command Graves to frame and torture you. As you were the only witness of it.

And for whom Shadow Company worked for?

The picture became crystal clear and you laughed like a madman. A trickle of blood dripped down the corner of your mouth, when they kept inflicting pain onto the poor soul of yours. And your young body too, staining it forever.

General Shepherd’s hands were not as clean as everyone thought so. He had to have something in common with those weapons being smuggled to the terrorists. Shepherd might have been afraid that you knew that, so therefore he needed you dead. Even though you hadn’t managed to read any of the notes before their destruction.

He wanted you buried six feet under the ground with no gravestone. No monument.

And you know what they say – if you don't know what it is about, it’s probably about the money.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Although the pieces of puzzles fit together perfectly, their borders clinging tightly to each other, you hadn’t experienced satisfaction at all.

The exhaustion became helpful at some point, separating your body from all the pain you’ve endured during the last couple of hours. The blood on your cuts dried up, but the smell of it made your stomach turn.

You couldn’t believe that the scent and sight of blood would make you lightheaded, ever in your lifetime. Not as a woman of course, they see much more blood than the average man.

But all of the beatings that those demons inflicted upon you was bearable. Painful obviously, but bearable. If your assessment was correct, they hadn’t broken any bones till now. The split skin on your collar bones, separated with the sharp blade of the knife could be stitched up. With good care the scars would eventually fade.

If you survive this interrogation.

Your grunts and whines filled Phillip’s ears, yet he still craved more than this. He hadn’t heard you scream and he would extort those sounds from you pretty soon.

The Shadows dragged you to sit at the wooden chair near the old table, your shoulders slowly sinking to the furniture’s backrest. They gave you a break as their knuckles were bloodied and scratched. Perhaps, they were thinking of another way to push you into the Behemoth’s maw.

The time between your interactions passed quickly. Your eyelids closed loosely, but you heard the surroundings very well – the gravel crunching beneath the soles of their shoes, the way they shifted their weight. You noticed that, all of it. Your mind was alerted and aware.

━ Have to give that to Ghost, he trained you well ━ Graves dragged another chair near yours and sat comfortably in it. Too close to your liking though. ━ But you must be tired, don’t you?

━ I’m fine.

A whisper hummed in the storage hall, filling the silence between your breaths. Those which might be your last ones.

━ You look shit to be honest ━ the commander put his hands in the air, just like he didn’t want it to sound like an insult. ━ It didn’t have to come to this, doll. You wouldn’t have suffered if you just confessed when I asked you to.

You scoffed, raising your head to face him with a look full of disgust.

━ That false confession is a death sentence.

Graves shifted in his seat, getting closer to you as he leaned to your ear. One of his hands pushed the loose strands of hair behind your cartilage, while the other rested on your thigh.

Your whole body tensed, when his palm squeezed the soft flesh of your inner thigh. It wandered far too close to the crotch, even through the material of clothes.

When your hands shoot to grab his, the Shadow standing beside grabbed your left arm and pinned it to the table’s surface. Your other hand’s fingers were entangled around Graves’ wrist, trying to stop him from moving any further.

You had heard that he was wicked and unpredictable, but not to this extent.

━ Listen up ━ he said so quietly it might have eluded from you, if you didn’t pay enough attention ━ I’m being generous here and giving you one, last chance, princess. Confess and you’ll be under my arrest. No further harm will happen to you, if you behave, that is.

The audacity of this sickening man never stopped surprising you. You knew perfectly well what he meant by being under his arrest, what it meant to be Phillip Graves’ prisoner. It was a fate far worse than death.

Your eyes were locked on his mischievous smile, twisting soft cheeks and underlining the wrinkles on his forehead. He was abusing his power and was perfectly aware of that. It was you against the devil.

━ Come on, be a good girl. ━ He tried to persuade you with the sweet words and empty promises. It was kind of insulting, Graves thought he would convince you to change your mind. ━ Just say it was you, hm?

But little did he know, your pride and stubbornness was far greater than his.

You hung your head low again, before chuckling softly, shoulders trembling. It caught him off guard, you noticed. Graves probably thought you’ve gone far from sanity.

Naturally you were weary of the pain, of the constant soreness in your muscles, the painful stretch of dried up blood. Yes, you were scared of upcoming tortures, you already admitted to that before yourself. But you would never forgive yourself if you weren’t true to the beliefs that got you here in the first place. You couldn’t let them frame you.

Not this motherfucker in particular.

━ Go fuck yourself.

Then it was you who spilled out some words coated in pure hatred, almost an exorcism to make him go away. Your faith in your truth was strong. Graves’ hand released your thigh with a disappointed look on his angelic face, instead forcing your right forearm into his chest. He was keeping your limb too tight, while the other one was still pinned to the table.

Another Shadow appeared in the corner of your eye, slowly making his way towards your splayed out hand on the flat surface. Only then you noticed the thing he was holding.

“Fuck.”

━ Alright, the hard way it is. ━ Phillip said, savoring the building fear in your eyes as your shrinking pupils were following the outline of the drill. A simple machine you would put your furniture together.

But in the right hands it would be a torture device.

━ You can’t be serious. You c-can’t– Y-You–

He shushed you, cradling your right arm within his hold. One of the Shadows stood on the other side of you, squeezing the elbow and your wrist so roughly, it almost made the bones pop out of the joint.

Your instinct was to try and wiggle away, but the two men held you steadily. The third one flicked the power button and you looked at the small, but pointy drill turning with a mechanic sound.

━ No, no, no, no, don’t, DON’T!

The panic and fear overtook your stoic strategy. Only then you began being truly scared of their sinister games. You pleaded, you fought back, you begged until you screamed so loudly, there had to be someone hearing you from the outside. The pain of your flesh getting twisted and ripped off, made you want to vomit, if not the screaming tightening your throat muscles.

Then the drill stopped. You estimated it hadn’t even reached your bone, yet. But the crimson, syrupy liquid climbed up the length of the metal part and trickled to the sides of your assaulted forearm.

You were breathing loudly, gasping for air. A droplet of sweat rolled down your temple. Every single finger of yours was trembling, muscles spasming from the pain.

Graves reached one of his hands and forcefully squeezed your jaw and cheeks. He forced your pretty face to stare directly at him. Then, when he noticed how salty tears were overflowing your waterline, he grinned.

━ Look at me, soldier ━ Graves gave an order, but you were not his subordinate. He had to yank your head and dig his digits into your flesh again. ━ Look. At. Me!

The Shadow continued the assault, turning the power back on. This time, he expected resistance from the hard tissues so he pushed harder.

Your shrieks filled his ears like cathedral music, a gospel of his liking. The tears streaming down your face finally reached his palm that was squeezing your face. Graves wanted to have a good look at all the scowls of ache.

You swore you had heard the bone cracking, a muscle perforated already. White, blunt pain blinded your senses, only the warm embrace of the commander sitting across you kept you aware that you were still in the land of living.

Your stomach was hurting – God, you were going to puke.

━ What’s the meanin’ ‘f this?!

The voice of your savior, echoed somewhere in the back of your consciousness. The mechanical drill stopped its work and you actually felt it when it was ripped off your forearm. You whined, letting your eyelids shut. Blood splashed across the table.

The two Shadows remained by your side, meanwhile Graves stood up from his seat and took a walk towards the intruders.

You felt the familiar smell of tobacco, a very specific species of tobacco used only for cigars.

━ Captain, I can assure–

━ Assure what? ━ John Price said, venom and hatred rolling down his tongue. He was pissed and dear God, you don’t want to anger this man. ━ That you mutilated one of my soldiers? Who gave you the order?

Graves pressed his lips into a thin line.

━ General himself.

━ Why? ━ Ghost raspy voice sounded next to your limp form and it made you feel protected.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him towering over you even when he slouched to reach your level. You forced yourself to form a subtle smile, because somehow, the fight was over. You were being taken away from the monster that Graves was.

━ She destroyed the only fucking evidence, trying to cover her own ass.

The lieutenant took a quick look over your body, you felt his gaze roaming on yourself. He was looking for serious wounds, but the one on your forearm seemed to be the nastiest one.

Ghost helped you rise up from the chair, securing you in the straight line by holding onto your shoulders. Before he did that, he seemed to ask nonverbally with his dark eyes if you could walk. You nodded weakly.

━ She’s a private under my command ━ Captain Price kept lecturing the blonde man, standing still like a tree. ━ If she had been accused, I’m the one to take her for questioning, not you. This is my team, my base and you will follow my rules, is that clear?

You couldn’t exactly point to the moment where you walked past Price and Graves. Your eyes were so heavy and the main focus was to keep walking forward. If not Ghost upholding your posture straight by holding onto your arms, you wouldn’t be able to stand by your own strength.

Despite the stories you had heard about him being rough, he wasn’t with you, at all. His grip was firm, but no digit of his calloused fingers dug into the beaten flesh of yours. Should a soldier ever feel comfort rather than dread in the presence of their superior? Was this normal? Were you?

━ I had my own orders, the intel pointed out she was a suspect. Apparently ━ he took a deep breath in, keeping his anger on a leash ━ there was a misunderstanding. I apologize for any… inconveniences.

━ I’ll talk to Shepherd about this one, you stay out of it ━ Price stated, before turning around on his heel. He was walking behind the two of you. ━ Oh, and you owe this lady an apology. Better be a good one, boy.

No.

You wanted to scream that word over and over. If Graves ever bothered you again, you would gouge his blue eyes out – gladly looking at the soft tissues getting stuck under your nails, Phillip’s blood staining your hands. Ghost felt when your body tensed under his grip as he led you out of the storage hall. Of all people, he could sympathize with you the most.

You walked in silence, only the echo of the gravel mixed with sand echoed in your ears. The chilly, evening breeze awoke your senses, although it didn’t give you more strength. Your hand clutched to Ghost’s, when you felt your stomach shrinking.

━ God ━ you leaned over your own knees, gasping for air ━ I think, I’m gonna… ‘m gonna puke.

He followed your poor soul to the side of the road. Before you could deny his help, Ghost was collecting your loose strands of hair and holding it firmly behind your neck.

━ That’s alright. Take your time.

He wasn’t angry or disappointed with you. Ghost wasn’t rushing you as you tried to catch your uneven breath. The lieutenant just stood there, holding the hair out of your face in case you would vomit.

But you hadn’t thrown up at all. You just crouched there gasping for air, pressing your wounded forearm to your chest, blood staining the military shirt. Your limbs began to shiver, but not from the low temperature. Only then you allowed yourself for a display of any weaknesses, for a way to express your pain and exhaustion.

━ I d-didn’t do any-anything. I promise.

Your tone sounded broken and he couldn’t bear it. His stone cold heart couldn’t withstand the look in front of him. Ghost pulled you up from the crouching position, before pressing your forehead into his chest. He could still hear your quiet sobs, your blood surely staining his clothes too. But he didn’t care about some piece of cloth.

━ I know.

Ghost was already soaked with blood of all the lives he ended miserably, but to be stained with something that belonged to you? That was something different. To him your blood could be the red wine that turns into the blood of Christ during each mass.

The lieutenant wrapped his arms around your back and kept one palm on the back of your head. Ghost caught the glimpse of your tired eyes and all he could see was himself. A reflection of sort, only a shard perhaps. When everything he had held dear to him – the dignity and humanity of Simon Riley, was taken away from him all those years ago, all he needed was a solace.

The man didn’t have to say much, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to hear him pity you. But Ghost’s presence was enough, his warm and gentle touch made you feel somehow protected.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion causing you to melt into his embrace, because how could you feel any special, different from your teammates in his beautiful, dark eyes? He was your lieutenant for God’s sake.

Would he console the others if needed? Or maybe he sees you as weak? A fragile package that needs to be handled with care? Why was he so sympathetic with you of all the people?

You stopped thinking and sank into the feeling of his soft and clean shirt that covered the man’s sternum and chest. You brushed the idiotic thoughts away, because you deserved that kind of affection.

You deserved to be held close and to feel safe.

And in his arms it all became very real.

Even for a moment.

━ Come on, moppets ━ Price’s now calm voice, broke the heated thoughts and raging emotions as he got closer to them. ━ She needs to see a doctor.

A/N: The end of this fanfic has an open sort of ending so therefore I can write more comfort with Reader/Ghost in the bonus chapter if you would like to. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

287 notes · View notes