#then my husband had to rush to the hospital with appendicitis

[auspicioustidings]

You have two passports which is neat (thanks to your parents being two different nationalities). Not something that's really got much of an impact on your life. Or at least it didn't until the MoD did a search for any employees that may have one of your nationalities and you popped up. You don't do anything in the military as such, but technically you do work for the MoD even if it's as a low level cleaner in an office.

Imagine your surprise being pulled into a meeting room with someone who has more stripes on their shoulders than you knew existed along with some Captain you've never met. The world's sort of at stake you see, and it would really speed things along if Captain Price here could get a visa for that second country you hold a passport for. Don't worry, once all is said and done the marriage can be annulled, and really given his team are risking their lives, how bad is one tiny little marriage?

The bit they don't tell you as the man with the many stripes performs the ceremony right there and then in the office is that this isn't expected to be a short mission by any means. No, that bit you find out as time marches steadily on and your husband who you had assumed you'd never actually interact with is giving red envelopes to your little cousins for the New Year, is rushing you to the hospital and sitting right by your side holding your hand as you recover from appendicitis, is slowly making a home for both of you. The house, he says, is for security. And yet anyone who enters sees the photos on the walls, the knick knacks, the combination of you and him soaked into the place.

It's two years into your marriage that one rainy night, saited from a warm meal and enjoying a cosy hot chocolate as you talk about anything and everything, you finally consummate the damn thing.

By the time he finishes the mission you have 3 kids and 2 dogs. After the kids are put to bed the day he gets back he gets down on one knee. "Want to do it proper this time darling. Will you marry me, my beautiful wife?"

[mandelene]

So I'm just sending this in...you don't have to do them but I feel like I was gonna forget them if I didn't. The prompt idea I had was - The first incident/event that made Arthur realise Matthew was asthmatic? Like the first time he showed symptoms I guess

but yeah no worries if you don't want to write this! thanks anyway!

I’m back with another drabble at long last! I’ve gotten so rusty. Thanks to the above anon who sent in this request (sorry it's been in my inbox for weeks 😅).

The Fine Line Between Overbearing and Caring Word Count: 962

Arthur would not describe himself as a helicopter parent. In fact, he would take offense if someone were to even suggest such a thing. Surely, there is nothing wrong with hovering over one’s child occasionally? Don’t most parents monitor the social, mental, and physical aspects of their children’s lives? What’s wrong with keeping tabs on whether his five-year-old twins are eating healthy, getting enough sleep, staying far away from the troublemakers in their kindergarten class, being taught an academically rigorous curriculum, and exercising proper hand-washing hygiene?

Francis says he’s overprotective. Rubbish. Arthur believes there’s no such thing as being overprotective when it comes to one’s own children. Children need structure, and they need to know that they can always count on their parents. Arthur didn’t have either of those things during his formative years and look how that’s turned out.

Therefore, when Arthur notices that Matthew has started coughing at night before bed with a worrying frequency, he immediately raises the issue with Francis. 

“Perhaps it’s too dry in his bedroom. We should set up a humidifier,” he proposes.

“Arthur, you’re being dramatic. I haven’t heard him coughing. Everyone coughs on occasion. We don’t all need to be rushed to the hospital,” Francis counters, having borne witness to his husband’s excessive fretting many times. “Remember when you thought Alfred had appendicitis? It was just an ordinary stomach ache.” 

Arthur rolls his eyes. “He had pain in the lower right quadrant of his abdomen – it wasn’t a stretch to assume it was his appendix. Regardless, you never notice these things.” 

“You notice every sneeze and think it’s pneumonia. You always jump to the worst-case scenario. Are all doctors like this?”  

“As a medical professional, it’s my job to notice things,” Arthur says gruffly, unsatisfied with Francis’ dismissive response. “I’m worried.” 

“Don’t worry so much…Oh, don’t look at me like that. If it makes you feel better, put the humidifier in Matthew’s room.” 

“I will.”

“Good.” 

And that’s the end of that. For the time being.

Arthur doesn’t detect any other concerning behavior for several weeks.

Until, one Friday during dinnertime, as Arthur is taking a bite of the lemon chicken Francis prepared for dinner, he hears a soft, high-pitched wheeze from across the table.

He sets down his fork and observes the rise and fall of Matthew’s chest. His breaths are too shallow for comfort. “Matthew, my love, are you feeling all right?” 

Matthew nods his head but doesn’t meet Arthur’s inquiring gaze.

“You know you can tell me if you’re not…I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” he continues, pressing him for a real answer. 

“Matthew was coughin’ all day at school,” Alfred reveals, always happy to take advantage of the opportunity to snitch on his brother, especially since Matthew rarely finds himself in trouble. “But he didn’t wanna tell the teacher.”

Now that he’s been put in the hot seat and all eyes are on him, Matthew begins to cry. Big, sloppy tears run down his flushed cheeks, and Francis hurries around the table to console him.

“There, there, you’re not in any trouble, mon chou,” Francis soothes, running a hand through Matthew’s hair. “Why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you so we can help?”

Arthur already has a hunch as to what the diagnosis is, but he wants Matthew to explain the problem in his own words to help confirm his suspicions.

“It hurts,” Matthew admits between his sobbing.

“What hurts, mon lapin?”

“To b-breathe.” 

And that’s all Arthur really needs to hear. He leaves the kitchen to retrieve his stethoscope, and when he returns with it, he places the diaphragm on Matthew’s chest. The wheezing he hears with each exhalation makes it clear what the cause is. “Matthew, you’re having an asthma attack.” 

“Asthma?” Francis asks, eyes wide with concern.

“I told you his coughing during the night was significant,” Arthur huffs, stopping just short of saying ‘I told you so.’

He thinks he has an albuterol inhaler lying around somewhere – he keeps most emergency medications on hand. Unlike Francis, he’s prepared for any situation. After rummaging through a few cabinets in the bathroom, he finds one, and fortunately, it isn’t expired.

He gives it a good shake and helps Matthew take two puffs. After a minute or so, Matthew’s shoulders slump with relief and his breathing begins to slow.

“Feeling better?” Arthur asks him.

“Uh huh,” Matthew replies after taking a few deep breaths. 

 “Good.” 

 Francis frowns. “So what now?”

“We make an appointment with a specialist – either an allergist or pulmonologist. They’ll be able to do a few breathing tests to confirm it’s asthma and come up with a long-term treatment plan,” Arthur explains. “The bad news is that this likely won’t be Matthew’s last asthma attack. The good news is that it’s very much manageable with the right medications.”

“My poor, Mathieu,” Francis says before giving Matthew’s head a gentle kiss. “I’m so sorry, mon lapin.”

Meanwhile, Alfred seems to have other priorities on his mind. “I wanna try,” he mumbles, pointing to the inhaler.

“You don’t need it, Alfred. This is a medication like any other, and we don’t use medicine we don’t need, understand?” 

“Ugh, no fair,” Alfred pouts. “It looks cool.”

Alfred calling the inhaler “cool” seems to cheer Matthew up somewhat and stops his river of tears.

Arthur’s not sure how to explain the complexities of having an obstructive lung condition to a kindergartener or where to even start, but there will be plenty of time to figure it out. For now, he supposes all that matters is that Matthew is feeling more like himself again.

At least now he has an excuse to hover over his son even more without being accused by his husband of being overbearing.

That’s a plus.

[theangrypomeranian]

Trick or treat 👀

DTT, my darling <3 so for you, let's talk Barryl (because the brainrot is always so so real lol)! during Darryl's sophomore year of college, Becky gets into a car accident and is rushed to the hospital to be checked out. she calls him once she's there and he flips out because oh god his girlfriend is in the hospital and he rushes there, but he can't go see her because he's not immediate family. thankfully she's fine except for a little bruising and he's able to take her back to the dorms, but he's thoroughly spooked and frustrated. so after thinking about it for a few days, he proposes. no, literally, he asks her to marry him. she's freaked out at first, but he tells that no being able to see her at the hospital had him panicked so if they get married now and anything happens to either of them, they'll have that spousal privilege. she takes a day to think it over then agrees. they get married at the courthouse with Susmita and Henry as their witnesses and boom, they're husband and wife. but they don't actually tell anyone else, especially not their families, because they know they'll all tell them that they acted rashly and it's too soon. so they're secretly married for two years, and Su and Henry of course don't say anything because they're OGs. then after Darryl graduates with his bachelors, he comes down with appendicitis and has to be rushed to the hospital, and Becky is suddenly so glad that they did what they did because she gets to be by his side immediately after the surgery. their families find out though and her mom is horrified because she doesn't like Darryl (fuck Kelly), while his mom is SO mad because they didn't tell her and they didn't let her plan their wedding damn it! XD they both promise to let her plan a real wedding for them.

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade Medical Doctor arrested allegedly for harvesting housewife’s Kidney A medical doctor identified as Noah Kekere has been arrested by men of the Plateau State Police Command for alleged organ harvesting carried out in his hospital in Jos, the State capital. The Police Public Relations Officer (PPRO) DSP Alabo Alfred, who disclosed this, said that the Command arrested the medical doctor following a complaint by the husband of the victim. He noted that the suspect has been detained, adding that investigation was going on to determine his culpability or otherwise with the view to charge him to court. The LEADERSHIP reported that a Jos-based businessman, Alhaji Kamal, had accused the medical doctor of harvesting one of his wife’s kidneys and subjecting the woman to chronic pain in the last five years. He narrated that sometime in 2018, his wife, simply identified as Kehinde, complained of stomach ache and she was rushed to the clinic owned by the suspect in the Nasarawa Gwong area of Jos North local government area where he diagnosed the victim and concluded that she had appendicitis that it had ruptured and needed urgent surgery. The husband, a resident of the Rikkos area of Jos North, said, “About eight years ago, my wife was sick, so she was directed and she visited a hospital owned by one Dr. Noah Kekere at Yanshanu, Nasarawa Gwong community of Jos North local government area. In the process of going to see my mum in the hospital, I got acquainted with the doctor. “When my wife fell sick in 2018, complaining of severe stomach pain, my mum encouraged us to take her there because my wife used to follow my mum to see the doctor when my mum was ill. As we got there, the doctor did a scan and said my wife had a ruptured appendicitis and must be operated upon immediately, and he billed us N140,000. “When I called some people to ask about the high bill as I planned to take her to JUTH, they advised we should just go ahead and save her life. “The doctor asked how much I had and I said N80,000, apart from other charges for drugs. But after the operation, my wife was still complaining about the pain and the man kept collecting money from me all these years. The day the doctor conducted the operation, he started the operation from 12pm till 8pm and for the past five years, my wife kept complaining of severe stomach pains, I continued to take her to the same hospital because I did not want to change the doctor that started the treatment. As she continued to have the pains, I decided to go to the Jos University Teaching Hospital (JUTH) a few days ago, where we discovered that one of my wife’s kidneys was removed. “We reported the matter to the Police at Nasarawa Gwong and the doctor was arrested two days ago.” #MedicalDoctorarrestedbyPolice

[chibinightowl]

Waiting is the worst part. Logically, Tim knows his husband is in the best possible place for the care he needs. But he's also behind doors that not even the name Wayne will open, waiting alone in a place that has caused him so much trauma in the past.

Well, perhaps not this particular hospital, but other medical centers and other medical professionals have all contributed to Jason's PTSD.

Tim can't even sit with him, hold his hand, and field questions so his husband doesn't have to. He can't tell the staff to speak up, that Jason is half deaf on one side and has damage on the other thanks to an accident years before. He can't give him a hug when he goes back for his scans and offer a smile when he returns.

What's worse, what's tearing Tim's guts up inside, is the guilt that he didn't listen when Jason first mentioned he wasn't well. Admittedly, they both thought the nausea was a side effect of the panic attack Jason suffered two days before. He'd spent the morning vomiting before a doctor appointment he couldn't put off any more. They chalked it up to anxiety and that it would pass once the visit was over.

The appointment might be over but the nausea remains. Chills and cold sweats have entered into the mix and Jason has spent the last couple of nights tossing restlessly in the living room where the floor is paneled rather than carpeted. It's not unusual for him to lie there--he runs warm to begin with and has said he enjoys a nap where the flooring is cool on his skin.

This morning when Tim woke up, Jason was still there, whimpering and restless. His eyes cracked open when Tim sat down in the armchair with his coffee. "Babe, I don't feel good," he'd said.

"I know," Tim had soothed. "When did you last take your nausea meds?"

They both know what a vicious cycle Jason's brain can get stuck in, how his body reacts to stressors and how in turn he'll fixate when there's nothing actually wrong. Many a virtual doctor visit has been had for exactly that.

But today, tears welled up in Jason's eyes when Tim brushed him aside. "I took them already," he'd said. "Nothing is working. I can't eat. I can't drink. I'm cold and hot and I fucking hurt. I know this shit is all probably in my head but I want to see a doctor and have them tell me that to my face."

Tim remembers all too well how he'd felt like he was humoring his husband when he snagged his tablet to look for the closest urgent care clinic. It's at the clinic where the PA prods Jason's abdomen and he curls up tight against the pressure.

"I think you might have appendicitis," she'd said and sent them on their merry way to the ER.

The whole drive, Tim felt like a damned tool. He's had appendicitis himself, he knows the symptoms, and has even gone through the surgery. How did he miss this?

At a stop light, Jason had placed a clammy hand over Tim's. "Don't beat yourself up over it, babe."

"I should have known..."

"You should have known shit--your symptoms were different."

This is true but is beside the point. "I'll stay with you," he says in a rush. "For as long as I can."

It ends up not being for very long. So here Tim sits in the cafeteria, nursing a cup of coffee and fucking around on his phone. Jason's maybe 500 feet away in a triage staging area, but it feels like miles. He has an IV for fluids and has been given medication for pain and the nausea. He's NPO in case he'll need surgery.

All of these things Tim knows from his own experience earlier in the year. He'd done it all by himself because Jason's PTSD wouldn't allow him to even set foot in the ER. He'd tried, oh had he tried, but Tim told him it would be okay, that he'd keep in touch by text and to keep his phone on him.

Jason might be able to walk in here now but he shouldn't be alone. But the ER is crowded and there are no extra seats in triage for guests. Jason had squeezed Tim's hand when the nurse told him he needed to wait elsewhere.

"Keep your phone on you, babe."

"I won't put it down."

And so he waits, gnawing on his guilt and feeling like the worst person ever.

[veryrealimagination]

Whumpay Day 01

I didn’t do all of them, likely won’t. But I will post the ones I managed.

Murdoch Mysteries - Appendicitis, William Murdoch

There was pain radiating from Murdoch’s side as he walked in the Station House. Julia had jabbed him in the side during the night, and he seemed to be still feeling the effects of that. He was also warmer than normal, and he hoped he wasn’t coming down with the sickness that had been passing through Toronto for the last month.

George and Henry weren’t around, which he took to meant that they were out on patrol. Detective Watts was clacking away at Henry’s desk. He caught a quick glance at Murdoch and frowned. “Detective, should you be in today?” he inquired, “You’re paler than normal.”

“I’m fine,” he said, looking over several notes and letters that he had gathered from the front desk. A particular spasm forced him to stand still for a few seconds before continuing to walk, breathing through the pain as he made his way to his office. Watts narrowed his eyes at the move, but didn’t do anything except turn back to his own reports.

Staying at his desk did nothing to stop the pain in his side, or the heating of his body. Murdoch even felt nauseous, grabbing a bucket and keeping it nearby in case he was sick. Which he did, when everyone started getting lunch and he smelled some of it wafting in his office. Watts, who had been looking every fifteen minutes, was particularly disturbed when he started coughed up the last of his breakfast and stood up to dump the contents and wash it out. The pain in his side flared with a burn, and he silently gasped before grasping the offending side.

Watts jumped up and entered his office without a knock. “Detective-” he tried, before the man was feeling his forehead before placing a hand on his bad side and pushing in. This time, his yell wasn’t silent and his knees buckled before he was grabbed and gently lowered.

“Constable McNabb, call for a wagon!” Watts ordered, getting attention from the rest of the bullpen.

“What are you doing to Murdoch, Watts?” Brackenreid questioned, seeing the younger man holding Murdoch off the floor.

“Checking my suspicions,” he said, watching McNabb ring up a wagon and another coming in after Brackenreid, “Appendicitis. I pressed on his right side and the pain got worse, evident by his scream.” The two of them hoisted the man back to his feet.

Murdoch didn’t like that implication. “I didn’t scream,” he defended.

“Scream and yell are roughly the same in meaning,” Watts stated, turning back to their superior, “Someone should alert Doctor Ogden that her husband will be heading into surgery.” The prospect didn’t agree with Murdoch, who somehow went even paler.

“Watts!”

He turned to the Inspector. “Words cannot be minced at this time. He has appendicitis and he will need to be operated on soon.” The constable and himself supported Murdoch to a waiting wagon that was told to rush if possible. “We will be back after seeing him in and making sure the doctor knows.” He got in with a returning Crabtree, who was shocked at the sight of the older detective and went along with them.

The bumps and drops that they encountered caused a never-ending amount of pain to go through his right. At least he hadn’t tried to be sick again, instead curling to protect his side.

Those at the hospital must have been warned about their arrival, taking Murdoch almost immediately. Julia was also waiting for the two in the waiting room. “Detective Watts, George,” she greeted.

“Hello, Doctor,” George greeted back.

“Doctor Ogden,” Watts nodded.

“I have you to thank for my husband’s quick diagnosis,” she said to Watts. He ducked his head in slight embarrassment, the novelty of being praised for his knowledge instead of admonished still new and shiny. “Although, I must admit, I’m curious as to how you figured it out.”

He straightened out his back, if not his gaze, keeping it down to the floor behind them. “There was a man, a Doctor Blumberg, that came to Temple while he was traveling through Canada. He talked about it to a couple of medical professionals. It was fairly interesting.”

“Blumberg?” she asked, “Oh, he’s a gynecologist, recently talked with him about some of the less than legal aspects of our line of work.”

“Doctor!” George said, mockingly scandalized.

“Oh, hush, George,” she waved off, smiling. “I believe the two of you will need to head back to the station if William is bed bound for two weeks. Cases will start piling up.”

[romanticchemacademic]

Dear future health professionals and stem professors,

We need a revolution of thought. Only through a renaissance of pure and genuine passion towards medicine and other sciences will we have competent doctors, nurses, other healthcare workers, and teachers. We live in a world where people pursue noble professions for the sake of social and economic advancement. However, we lack individuals who love the process of learning and their career.

I recollect quite a marvelous excerpt written by one of the world’s greatest scientific minds, Albert Einstein. In his book, The World As I see It he writes:

ACADEMIC CHAIRS ARE MANY, but wise and noble teachers are few; lecture rooms are numerous and large, but the number of young people who genuinely thirst for truth and justice is small. Nature scatters her common wares with a lavish hand, but the choice sort she produces but seldom.

We all know that, so why complain? Was it not ever thus and will it not ever thus remain? Certainly, and one must take what nature gives as one finds it. But there is also such a thing as a spirit of the times, an attitude of mind characteristic of a particular generation, which is passed on from individual to individual and gives a society its particular tone. Each of us has to do his little bit towards transforming this spirit of the times.

Compare the spirit which animated the youth in our universities a hundred years ago with that prevailing today. They had faith in the amelioration of human society, respect for every honest opinion, the tolerance for which our classics had lived and fought. 

  I believe that one of the faults lies within education institutions. Educators rely on testing, textbooks, and detached memorized lectures. Lectures lack passion and another essential factor: the real practice. The theory is important but the practice is necessary to understand the theory. But without passion, nobody will learn to love the material being taught. Ibn Sina is known for being one of the greatest physicians and teachers of Islamic medicine. I am not completely sure whether what I am about to mention is true. But I read that when he lectured theory to the medical students at the Madrassa (University) he would show them how it worked. Besides medical history and theory. He also taught physics, astronomy, philosophy, and mathematics. However, he is also famed for being an excellent teacher duly because he would take his students to test out the theories and practice what they have been taught. If they were learning medical theory, they were taken to the hospital to observe patients and their cases. If they were learning astronomy, they would all gather in the evening to look up at the heavens to look at the constellations. Lastly, his passion for his vocation was the final touch. Educators without the drive cannot teach. Learning is about understanding oneself, others, and the world. Learning evolves our minds and our spirits by making us get in harmony with the universe. I believe this ties in with Aristotle’s famous saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Though my interpretation may be a wee bit off, I translate it as thus; we can gather all textbook knowledge as possible but if we do not put into practice the knowledge learned, what is the point? I yearn and I pine to experience all that I have learned. I want to see why the theory makes sense in reality. I want to conduct experiments. So much potential is being wasted. Biology is the study of life. However, when I took the course, it was so cold to a point that it did not even feel like I was studying the human body but something alien instead. There is also such a rush to memorize material within a couple of weeks because of exams that the material ceases to be interesting and becomes more of an arduous chore instead. Our sense of time-shifted completely after the industrial revolution. Perhaps this is a reason why we feel the need to rush through everything and not take our time to study profoundly. 

We need another Scientific Revolution, curious minds thirsting for the acquisition of knowledge and unanswered questions. However, I believe that the leading force behind this is a necessity. I would like to mention an example to illustrate what I mean from a novel I read a while ago called, The Physician by Noah Gordon. A boy from Medieval Europe lost his mother from an unknown disease leaving him orphaned. He then grew up with the necessity to learn what the disease was and how to prevent other similar deaths, so that others do not suffer what he has suffered. He then worked with Barbers (people who performed medical procedures in Medieval Europe). But the medical knowledge these professionals had was not enough to answer his question. Thus, he traveled to Persia where there was a quite renowned and exclusive medical school. He did not have the economic means or previous schooling to attend but he impressed the headmaster with his passion and knowledge. Thus, the headmaster admitted him into the Madrassa. The European boy then invested all his time doing research, dissections and treating patients until he finally found out what ailment caused his mother’s death, side sickness (appendicitis). He figured out a way to treat this illness, removal of the appendix. From his initial necessity which was the driving force for him to pursue a medical career, he became a famous physician and felt that all his suffering and odyssey were worthwhile. The sense of necessity leads to the feeling of passion. It was his love for his mother that made him follow such a journey full of obstacles. I am beginning to apply that to my own life. I want to figure out my necessity which will be the driving force to power through university and medical school without ever feeling burnt out. I want to feel fulfilled. I believe this is what all pre-medical students and teachers should think about. What is your necessity? We are going to be dealing with human life, someone’s mother, father, friend, sister, uncle, lover, husband, or child...It is not something to be taken lightly. I know so many doctors lacking empathy because they went into the medical field with just the intention of being acknowledged as “Doctors” and getting rich. But I feel that even the most apathetic healthcare workers can become great empathetic professionals the moment they realize that something was triggered deep inside them, perhaps a loved one having an unknown disease. This would lead the apathetic doctor to do mass amounts of research to try to find a cure. This feeling becomes a necessity. A necessity to not lose the loved one. A necessity to save lives. Thus, finding passion, purpose, and becoming a better person. Though each person is different, we all share a selfish feeling. Most of the time we do not truly care about other peoples’ suffering until it happens to us. Once we are affected by something, we drive all our time and attention to find a solution or a way to deal with a problem. We become consumed and completely obsessed by it. I regard this as passion. I do not think passion subsides, it lingers on inside us. It is a fire that never burns out. I remember my high school teacher writing in my yearbook:

Remember a few things, BE PATIENT. You are eager and you will accomplish so much. But take your time, you are always rushing. Life is a journey, it is not about the destination. Be picky. You love everything with enthusiasm but enthusiasm can burn out. Find a fire inside yourself that burns for a long time.

-V

We cannot rush our personal legend. I believe it comes to us. It is Maktub (it’s written). But we also have to do something. Imagine you are on a stranded island but you have a machete, a fishing rod, coconuts, a cave for shelter, wood for a fire, an ocean full of fish. Everything required for survival is there, but you simply have to cut open the coconut with the machete, go fishing for food, fire to cook, and warmth. The fish isn’t going to swim right into your hands and the fire will not light itself. We must use our resources and do our bit. The Universe has a lot going on, we must help out a bit.

If you ever think about quitting, try to remember what made you start your odyssey in the first place. I do not know what my necessity is yet but that is okay. I believe it will come to me eventually. So for now, I simply love to romanticize academia. I like to imagine the: earthy tones of the universities archways, cobblestone paths, laboratories with clean Erlenmeyer flasks, beakers, pristine white lab coats, bunsen burner flames changing colors as different salts are added, Bromothymol Blue pen stains, elegant calculations inside a worn leather-bound notebook, formulas scrawled over the blackboard, forgotten cold Irish breakfast tea on the desk, academics discussing theories, applause from a successful experiment, gray rainy days spent inside the lab, Whitman, Hemingway, et Sir Arthur Conon Doyle being read during break, intellectual conversations with professors, chemistry reports being written, molecular models built, volumes of ancient words, fire slowly burning in the stone fireplace, trying to understand, looking at the constellations on a clear night in the astronomy tower, reciting poetry, Tchaikovsky playing whilst completing a long lab report on Lê Chatelier’s theory of Equilibrium, curious minds, sleepless evenings in the library, beautiful anatomical illustrations...Just imagining these things motivate and inspire me to continue my path. Though it may seem superficial, it awakens something inside me. I yearn and I pine to become a Chemistry Romantic. 

I want to conclude this letter by saying that pupils and educators keep ideals alive and can change them accordingly as well. We have the power to become excellent professionals or simply exist and do nothing for the human race. But if you plan on becoming a physician or educator, you must find the trigger which brings your passion to life, your necessity. Once you find that, you are guaranteed greatness and fulfillment. However, do not rush. Perfection takes time. A couple of obstacles should not hinder you from persevering. Many will tell you to give up but do not. That is the Universe testing you. Do your best until you master the topic. Once you know better, you are then able to do better. 

Regards,

Confessions from a Chemistry Academic

[booitislife]

Let’s Talk About Periods

My period is horrible. I have heard people who don’t get periods say: “It can’t be that bad.” Yes, yes it can. Some studies suggest that cramps can be a worse pain for women than a heart attack. My period technically starts a few days before bleeding. I get a period flu. A period flu is a few days of unexplained illness and flu-like symptoms (low grade fever, chills, etc) a few days before your period starts. I didn’t used to get this, but my body decided I needed this. The first time I got it, my doctor put me on antibiotics thinking I had a sinus infection. (She is proactive about fevers because I am a transplant patient).

My minor symptoms are bloating, diarrhea, lethargy, sometimes headaches, I get irritable, my breasts hurt for a few days, and some other lesser inconveniences. However - my biggest two issues? Pain and bleeding.

Bleeding - I bleed for eight to ten days every month. Usually the first one and last two of the cycle are light. I tend to have one or two very heavy days, depending on the month, and when I say heavy - I mean clots. Lots of them. I will soak through a ten hour pad in less than two hours. I have lost so many pairs of underwear. I now have “period underwear” that is darker or just old so I don’t care if it gets stained. The rest of the days are moderate.

Pain - This is the worst part of my period. I start cramping on day one and I usually don’t stop until the second to last day of my period. When I say it’s bad - I mean excruciating. I was once taken to the hospital by my mom because I couldn’t breathe right during cramps. The doctors rushed me in, thinking I was having a miscarriage, a burst cyst, or maybe appendicitis. They did lab work and ultrasounds. While I was waiting they gave me fentanyl, which is 80-100x stronger than morphine. I could still feel the pain. It dulled it, but didn’t negate it. The doctor came back in shock - there was nothing wrong. No miscarriage, no cysts, and my appendix looked great. These were just the cramps I was going to have to live with. I was given pain meds for every month - 20 - to deal with that I’m going through.

I have a few period journal entries that I would like to post. If you don’t want to read, please scroll down past the blue writing. Sadly, these are only four of dozens of examples.

September 17, 2020 - Day 5 of my period.

Woke up with horrible cramps that were so bad I was shaking. Slept on the couch again because I was tossing and turning so much from the pain. Didn’t fall asleep until nearly 4. Passed a clot which, usually by day 5, will alleviate some of the pain, but it didn’t. The exhaustion took over and I fell asleep until about 11:30, but when I woke up I was so tired I could barely move.

November 16, 2020 - Day 4 of my period.

I could not sleep last night. The pain is intense and comes in waves. The bleeding started to get heavy a little after 7AM. It’s a little after 8:30 when I’m writing this and I have passed 2 large clots and probably 5-6 smaller ones. I soaked through 1 pad already. I’m going back to bed and hopefully sleep for a few hours. Woke up with horrible cramps. Haven’t been able to get out of bed. Managed to get some food down to take my antibiotic, but that’s it. I am exhausted and the pain is radiating to my knees.

February 9, 2021 - Day 3 of my period.

I finally fell asleep around three, but I woke up a little after five with searing cramps. They went down my legs and around my back. I could barely think straight. I took meds, tried meditation, used a heating pad. Nothing helped, I finally passed a big clot and the pain subsided. I moved to the couch and was almost asleep when the pain started again around 9. I did everything the same - meds, meditation, heat. I’m going to try to get some more sleep.

April 14, 2021 - Day 2 of my period.

Having trouble getting to sleep. After taking pain meds and using pain cream on my back, the pain is just getting worse. I almost fell asleep, but woke up in pain. It’s 1:30 AM, and I am heading downstairs to lay on the couch with my heating pad. I can’t get comfortable and the pain is getting worse. It’s 5AM. I still can’t sleep. The pain is very bad. I just want to sleep through it and I can’t. Couldn’t sleep. The pain has somehow gotten worse over the afternoon. As of right now, I have pain meds in my system, pain cream on my back and abdomen, I took a very hot bath, and I am now laying with a heating pad. I am still in searing pain. I can’t do this much longer. I burst into tears a few minutes ago. Why won’t someone help me?

I have asked doctors, so many times, to have a hysterectomy. At first I was told I was too young. Then? I was told my husband would need to sign off on such a procedure. My husband was more than ready. If anything, he was just overtly appalled that he would have to do that, or that any doctor worth there degree would ask that. He asked what it would take for him to get a vasectomy. They said just call a urologist. “Would she have to sign off?” He asked indicating me, and when he was told no he said: “This is a ridiculous double standard. booitislife can make her own choices.”

I have seen 6 OBGYN’s in the last 8 years. The first told me I was too young. She offered a procedure called an Endometrial ablation. It does greatly reduce the bleeding issues. However, I wasn’t really worried about the bleeding - I was worried about the pain. She told me it wouldn’t really do anything for the pain, so I said no. I have to be careful with my transplanted kidney and any kind of anesthesia can be dangerous.

The second OBGYN was a man in the same office who was also conducting a cervical biopsy on me. I’ll never forgot the intense flash of pain and how I nearly yelled, but I did start to cry. According to my husband there was blood spray on the floor as the doctor looked up at me and said in a condescending voice - “That doesn’t hurt! Come on!” And then he laughed. He wouldn’t even discuss a hysterectomy. From that biopsy I learned I have pre-cancer on my cervix and underwent a LEEP procedure. They use a hoop wire heated by electric current to scrape off the parts that could become dangerous.

The third was about a half an hour away at a bigger hospital. He was the guy who did an endometrial biopsy on me. Different than the cervical biopsy, this was just a precaution after something looked off. He wasn’t as condescending as the others, and that biopsy came back normal. However, he wouldn’t do the hysterectomy either. He said I should go to a doctor in a hospital that has a transplant team - seemed reasonable.

Between the 3rd and 4th doctores I had been doing my research. I went to my nephrologist that was keeping track of my transplanted kidney, and told him about my struggles. He said he saw no issue with me getting a hysterectomy and, in fact, I should. He even confirmed with the current head of transplant from the hospital I had my transplant surgery in. So, I was off - feeling more confident. This new OBGYN was a doctor at my transplant hospital.

The fourth OBGYN - or as I call him “The Biggest Mother Fucker I had the displeasure to meet”. He dismissed a lot of my concerns quickly, and talked to me as if I didn’t know anything. Then, he asked if I wanted to try an IUD. Now, I have nothing against anyone who gets an IUD. If that is for you, and it’s working - awesome. I know my brain. I know my brain would focus on everything bad an IUD could do. I politely explained this to my doctor. This wasn’t an option for me. My panic would go crazy. He wrote some things down and told me he wanted to to a procedure just to check for any cancer cells that could be hiding, but (and oh yes, there was a big but) he would only do the procedure if I signed yes to getting a Mirana IUD. I had to sign a consent form before he would even schedule the procedure. So, I did. Then I canceled my procedure and never went to see him again. Oh, also, this asshole handed me pro-life pamphlets on my way out.

The fifth OBGYN - more trusting, no results. At this point I was exhausted. I was tired of trying and being let down, fighting to get an appointment. This OBGYN was a woman and she worked in the same office as the second guy I went to. I laid it all out for her. I told her what the previous doctor did. I told her about the pain, about not being able to barely move. I poured out my heart and soul to her. She empathized, then told me she did not feel comfortable doing my hysterectomy. Because the uterus is close to the transplanted kidney, she thought I needed a specialist. A type of doctor called an OBGYN oncologist. As luck would have it, there was one on staff at my transplant hospital. I waited and waited for an appointment. I waited for over a year. Finally they called and said they were just too booked. They had one doctor who did it, and it was most dire cases first. I understand that. So, I wasn’t angry or frustrated this time. The office at the hospital asked me if I would like to see another OBGYN on staff. I said as long as it wasn’t OBGYN Biggest Mother Fucker I had the Displeasure to Meet. I asked if it could be a woman and we set it up.

Okay, the last one for now. The OBGYN they set me up with was a resident. She seemed nice at first. We sat and talked about my pain, the exhaustion. She wanted to talk birth control options. Great. Her advice to me was to stay away from the shot and the implant. She agreed about the IUD not being right for me. So, she said she wanted me to start talking the pill. I stopped her. I had been on the pill twice. Once when I was 16, another time when I was 24. Two different kinds. Both times I had side effects. The most prominent was this intense stomach cramp. I would get headaches, nausea, extreme weight gain. I couldn’t live my life. I told this doctor that and she didn’t even look at me in the eye when she said...... “Well, I won’t even consider a hysterectomy until you’re on six full months of birth control.” It didn’t matter what other symptoms I had. It didn’t matter what I was and wasn’t comfortable with, not really. So, here I am, looking for lucky number 7 when it comes to OBGYN’s.

As I sit here tonight, losing a lot of blood through clots, being so tired I can’t think, but in too much pain to sleep. I found myself so angry. About an hour before I started writing this I had a pretty big panic attack. I haven’t had one of those in a long time. But - Tuesday night I slept for three hours. Last night I slept about five. Tonight it is almost 3 AM and I’m still awake. The pain is exhausting, but also keeps me awake. It also makes me tense. So, parts of my body started tingling. Instead of my logical side taking over and saying, “Yeah, you have been clenching for four days. You’re gonna feel odd things.” I convinced myself I was dying and had to take medicine. I am so tired on a deep level. I don’t want to have to go through this anymore, and I don’t know if that makes me sound selfish... I just.., I DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH THIS ANYMORE.

So, here we are. If you experience cramps like I do, I am so truly sorry. You don’t deserve them, and if I could do something to help you - I would in a heartbeat. People should not have to live like this. Doctors should listen to us and hear when we say that something like this is, genuinely, detrimental to our lives. If we want permanent birth control whether it be our tubes tied, an ablation, or a hysterectomy - it’s our body. We should decide what we can do with it. Please don’t stop fighting. Please don’t stop advocating for yourself. If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Have a good night, anyone who reads this. Thank you for reading this long-winded rant. Take care of yourself.

[dyns33]

Mister Shepherd

Hey @roxytheimmortal​ ! I hope it’s more or less what you wanted ! 

So, a quick summary : Michael Addams and his wife are about to have their third child, but while at the hospital, Michael sees Duncan Shepherd, a man he dreamed about years ago, seeing the Crimeverse. Afraid of losing his Goddess, he is more focus on the man than his family. 

           Normally, as a devoted husband and father, Michael should have focused only on his Goddess, who was going to birth to their third child. He would have preferred to leave the twins to his uncle or to (Y/N)'s parents, but the contractions had happened so suddenly, they were so painful, that he had not thought. He had first carried his tender wife in the car, then he had grabbed the two little monsters to put them in the back, he had taken the bag they had prepared weeks ago and he had driven like a lunatic to the hospital. Michael wanted to stay with his Goddess, but she needed calm. Calm and their children did not go together, so the doctors asked him to wait in the hallway with them. It was there that he saw him. First he heard him. The voice seemed familiar. Then the man had passed in front of him, in a wheelchair pushed by a nurse, speaking loudly on the phone. This hair, these eyes, this attitude. Then the nurse said his name and Michael almost had a heart attack. Duncan Shepherd. Michael had dreamed of this man a long time ago. He had dreamed that they were together, with (Y/N), that this man dared to call "kitten". His goddess was not a kitten, she was a tigress, a lioness, the queen of the savannah and of the whole world. Someone normal would have thought it was just a huge coincidence. But Michael Addams was not normal. His dreams sometimes had a meaning and he therefore did not like to discover that he had dreamed of a man who existed and who could try to take his wife from him.

           "Michael ? Do you hear me ?"

           "Yes, daddy, why don't you say anything ?"

           "... Dad ?"

Oh. His wife. His charming, precious, perfect wife was there, standing before him, and he hadn't seen her. It surprised her a little, and their children seemed worried too, to see that their father had not pounced on her when she arrived, unlike them.

           "I... I don't understand." he stammered. "Did you give birth ? Already ? And... the baby ?! The..."

           "Like I was explaining to you, it was a false alarm. The contractions have stopped and the doctor thinks I can go home, for now. Are you okay ?"

           "If you're okay, I'm fine Cara mia. Let's go back home !"

           "Will you go get the car please ? I'm a little tired, and walk..."

           "Of course my goddess ! Stay here with the children."

Michael regretted this decision when he returned to the hall. He should have carried (Y/N) by ordering their little monsters to follow him. For Duncan was there, with his charming smile, speaking with his goddess, who was also smiling, the little ones on her knees, listening to her stomach to know what their sibling was doing inside.

           "Do you really have to go ?" asked Duncan, pouting. "But we just met ! And you are the most beautiful thing that happened to me today. But I get it. At least I have a nice nurse who will take care of me. It's not as well, but it is a compensation, with my operation. I would have had the pleasure of meeting you, if my appendicitis explodes. "

           "Goodbye Mister Shepherd." sneered (Y/N) as the nurse took Duncan.

           "Goodbye pretty mommy !"

The return home was silent. It was late, but just in case Michael preferred to drop the kids off with their grandparents, so he wouldn't have to watch over them if they needed to rushed back to the hospital. Michael said nothing to his goddess about Duncan. He was not mad at her, not at all. It was even normal for men to flirt with her, she was perfect, but he wanted to kill this idiot for daring to speak to her. He hoped he was dead on the operating table. The next day, the contractions started again, even more painful. The baby was really coming this time. At the hospital, Michael was allowed to stay in the room, to support his wife.

           "I'm... I'm hot." she mumbled, her forehead burning. "I'm thirsty... Michael..."

           "I'll get you water and ice !"

At first, he did not deviate from his mission, quickly finding what he was looking for, but nurses pronounced the name of Duncan and he stopped in the middle of the corridor to observe the surroundings, watching for the man. Not again. Not now. Without realizing it, Michael remained motionless for several minutes, until he heard screams, and his name.

           "MICHEAL !"

           "Cara mia !" he yelled back, rushing into the room, where work had started.

He places the ice on (Y/N)'s forehead before taking her hand to kiss it, caress it, shake it tightly, murmuring words of encouragement and love, telling her that she was wonderful, that she was doing very well, that their baby was going to be so happy to discover that she was going to be their mom. He wiped away her tears, using his powers to try to relieve her. And, finally, the baby went out.

           "It's a boy." announced the nurse.

Michael as (Y/N) didn't care about the gender, they were just delighted that their family was growing. They remained for hours without saying anything, the little man on his mother's stomach. While his goddess rested, while admiring their son, Michael relished this moment, remembering the birth of the twins. He hadn't imagined falling in love with anyone other than (Y/N), but the feelings he had felt that day were indescribable. And it was the same today, with their third child, whom he loved more than anything, except his dear wife.

           "He needs a name." she whispered.

           "You have an idea ?"

           "Hmm... why not... Duncan ?"

(Y/N)'s smile showed him that she was not serious, that she was making fun of him. But... How did she know ? He hadn't said anything. And he was always jealous of everyone.

           "You are really silly, Mikey. I saw your expression, and when he told me his name, I remembered that dream you had. It was not difficult to make the connection. Poor Mister Shepherd. He didn't do anything wrong."

           "He flirted with you." Michael muttered.

           "Do you know what was the first thing he said to me ? 'Your husband is really sexy, I'm jealous'. Then he said that he understood very well why you were with me, that we were really a beautiful couple, with lovely kids, and he congratulated me, saying that he would have wanted the same thing, but that it was impossible because of his work. And when he saw you come back, he wanted to tease you a little. He said "your sexy husband is coming back. He's been staring at me since my arrival, I don't know if it's because he's afraid of me or because he likes him, so let mess with him pretty mom." You really aren't very discreet when you watch people, darling."

At the same time, a nurse entered to check that everything was fine, and when she saw Michael, she laughed a little before regaining her seriousness, even if she continued to smile.

           "I... I have to tell you that Mr. Shepherd is gone."

           "... what ?"

           "He asked us to tell the pretty mom's sexy husband not to look for him because his operation was over and he was gone."

(Y/N) tried not to laugh, to not wake the baby, while Michael felt ashamed. Not only had he been more attentive to a stranger than to his family, but Duncan had noticed it, everyone had noticed it, and now he was a horrible husband and a bad father.

           "Sorry Cara mia, I'm sorry..." he sobbed when the nurse was gone, kneeling next to her. "You and the kids are my only reason for living, the only thing that matters to me. I don't know why... I was disturbed... I..."

           "Hush. I know Michael. I understand and I'm not angry. Let's not think about it anymore. Our son still needs a name."

They chose Balthazar, a little because a uncle of Michael was called like that, a little because a demon was called like that, and much because it did not sound like "Duncan" at all. Then, as soon as (Y/N) felt better, they returned to present their little brother to the twins. They never spoke of Mr. Shepherd again and Michael never thought of him. Or maybe just a second, to curse him, hoping never to see him again.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

5 - “You’re one of the most important things in my life.”

There’s a few cuss words. I sobbed while writing this so I would recommend having some tissues handy. A character is in the hospital but no one dies. Buckle up boys and girls - 2900 words of emotional rollercoaster.

There was a strange comfort being in the four walls of the building, almost familiar. Almost as if they should name a wing of the hospital with how often they found themselves in there. Once again, he had gotten the call that no spouse ever wanted to get. Race had found himself in the emergency room, this time, surprisingly, no fault of his own. His appendix had ruptured with him needing emergency surgery.

Running a hand through Race’s unruly mess of hair, he leaned over and kissed his forehead, thanking all of his guardian angels that his snookum was going to be okay.

The familiar beeps calmed him slightly, knowing that it was unlike he would wake up anytime soon due to the anesthesia.

Sitting back down in the chair next to the bed, he swore, trying to get comfortable in the chair. He wanted to have a word with the hospital chief about getting comfortable chairs for loved ones who had to sit in them all night long. But that was a battle for another day. His phone vibrated as he pulled it from his shorts.

“Hey Kat.” His voice was soft and tired, as his eyes swept over Race.

His sister-in-law was a godsend. She was always checking up on the two of them and she was a really good listener when they both needed someone to talk to. “How is he?”

“Asleep. Doc doesn’t think he’ll be awake today. Better chance in the morning.” Spot sighed. “They said if he didn’t have the surgery when he did, we would’ve lost him.”

He hadn’t spoken those words out loud yet; yet they were the ones he couldn’t get out of his head. “Hey, he’s going to be okay. You have to focus on that. How are you? Do you need us to bring you food?”

“What time is it?” He croaked, clearing his throat.

“It’s 4:30. What time did you get there?” She asked as he could hear Jack in the background saying something to her.

His eyes looked at the clock on the wall, groaning softly. “I got here at 1. No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll get something from the cafe.”

“Spot, you know that food is crap. Let us bring you something.” Kat said softly. “Besides, don’t you want something more comfy than jeans? Does Racer have clothes to come in?”

He looked around the small room. His canvas bag was thrown in the corner with a bag that held Race’s clothes, necklace and wedding band. “He’s not going to want to wear jeans home.”

“We can be there in 30 minutes. Tell me what you want.” Spot bit his lip as she said that.

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall. “Whatever is fine. I’m not picky. Just get him a pair of PJ pants and a hoodie. Thanks Kat.”

“You’re welcome, Spot. Text me the room number and we’ll be up soon.” She promised as they hung up. Texting her and Albert quickly, he shut off his phone, not wanting to deal with anyone else.

Quietness wasn’t something that was associated with Anthony Higgins. Spot tended to hate the hospital visits due to the quietness that surrounded the room while they were admitted. Leaning forward, he grabbed Race’s hand, sighing before dropping it and pushing himself to his feet. Walking over to where the bag was, he grabbed Race’s wedding band, slipping it back where it belonged, kissing it before lacing their hands together.

Knowing that Race was going to be okay, Spot let his guard down. Every emotion he had pushed down for the last three hours had bubbled up to the surface. He bit his lip trying to keep the tears at bay but lost that battle. Gripping the lifeless hand tighter, he let his head fall to the bed, losing the battle with his tears.

He sobbed, gut wrenching cries, letting go of the fear and worry of possibly not seeing his husband ever again. It had been touch and go for a while in the surgery bay. The doctor had told him it was the worst case of appendicitis he had ever seen, not that that calmed Spot down any. And now, with the quietness surrounding him, he let it all go. He rubbed his eyes, getting rid of the tears that were there, only for more to rush to take their place. Race would never let him down if he saw Spot like this.

“It’s a good thing you’re not awake to see me as a mess.” Spot spoke quietly, voice thick with emotion. “Dammit Race, I know this wasn’t your fault but you can’t keep giving me heart attacks. I'm not as young as I once was.”

Sitting back in the chair, he scooted it closer to the bed, not letting go of Race’s hand. “You’re one of the most important things in my life. I hope to God you know that, Racetrack. I know we exchange ‘I Love Yous’ all the time but you’re one of the most important people in my life - Jack and Kat are up there too. I vow to start telling you that more, along with a hell of a lot more ‘I Love Yous’”

“Let’s make a pact - no more hospital visits for the rest of the year, okay? It’s July and we’ve been here 5 times already. I think they should just name a wing the Higgins-Conlon wing or at the very least give us a frequent flyer card.” Spot cleared his throat, looking up at the unmoved Race. “Baby, I’m just glad you’re gonna be okay. Just sleep, you’re really good at that and I can’t wait until I see those pretty blue eyes staring back at me.”

He trailed off, hearing a gentle knock at the door. Seeing the door gently pushed open, he tried to smile at Jack and Kat as they walked in but a sigh was all that he could muster. Unlacing his fingers with Race, he stood up and met them, pulling Kat into a hug he desperately needed. Jack patted his back, stepping around them, sitting in the chair Spot just vacated.

Kat pulled back, looking her brother-in-law over. “You doing alright?”

“Just had a good cry before you got here.” Spot chuckled before nodding. “Waiting for him to wake up on his own but I’m doing alright.”

She dropped a duffel bag in the corner before giving him a McDonald’s bag. “Got you food. Sit down and eat.”

“Yes mom.” He gave her a look, walking around the bed to sit in the opposite chair from Jack. “Thank you for bringing this.”

Jack smiled at him. “You’re welcome. You drove Kat up the wall by not calling.”

“Sorry, I didn't want to call when I didn’t have news.” Spot shot them an apologetic glance. “Doc said it was the worst case of appendicitis he’s ever seen. He was surprised that Race was as upbeat as he was when they took him down for surgery.”

Jack shook his head. “Did you have any indication that he had appendicitis?”

“None!” Spot shook his head, starting to eat the chicken nuggets they brought him. “It was just a normal morning. We parted ways and headed to on our merry way until I get a call at 12:20 that he’s been rushed to the hospital with an apparent case of appendicitis.”

Kat gave him a look. “When are they going to release him?”

“Don’t know. They won’t give me a whole lot of details. They do want him to have at least 2 rounds of antibiotics and finish another bag of saline before they release him.” Spot sighed. “I know he’ll be on an antibiotic for a week or so.”

Finishing up his food, he dropped the bag on the ground, sighing. “Thanks again for bringing the bag and food up.”

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything?” Kat stood beside Race’s bedside, running her hand through his hair.

Spot thought about everything. “Did you let Tyson out?”

Tyson was their year old Boxer puppy who was a ball of energy and a goofball. Race had insisted they adopted from the animal shelter and immediately fell for the puppy who’s paws were too big for his body.

“He eagerly greeted us at the door.” Jack laughed. “We’re going to stop by the house and pick him up on our way home that way you don’t have to rush home.”

Nodding, Spot smiled. “Thanks, I really appreciate you two. You’ve been a godsend for us.”

“That’s what family does, Spot.” Kat smiled. “Let us know when you’re heading home and we’ll have food for you guys so you don’t have to worry about that when you get home.”

Spot looked at his hands, willing Race to wake up. He didn’t know what to say to Kat and Jack at the moment.

“Hey you okay?” Jack looked over at his brother-in-law who had thrown his head back sighing loudly.

“I’m tired of spending time in a hospital. I’m tired of feeling so damn helpless while watching him sleep.” Spot groaned. “Can we just wrap him up in a giant bubble so that I don’t have to jump every damn time my phone rings with an unknown number?”

Taking a deep breath, Spot tried to calm down. “Sorry.”

“No you’re good.” Kat reassured him as Jack chuckled, causing Spot to raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I was just imagining Race in one of those hamster bubble balls, rolling around in the world.” Jack shook his head chuckling, causing Spor to chuckle with him. “He’d be a bigger menace in one of those than if he just walked around - bumping into everything and having a trail of destruction behind him.”

Kat walked around the bed to him, crouching down. “It sucks that you two have been in the hospital so much this year. I wish there was something we could do.”

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead before giving her a quick side hug. “You’re doing it by being here and bringing me food and clothes.”

“Hands off, lady, he’s mine.” A croaky voice called as Spot looked towards the bed. A smile crossed his face as his brain recognized the voice.

Spot stood, followed by Jack and Kat, looking over at Race. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my lower half has been taken out, ran over and put back in place.” He groaned. “What the hell happened?”

Spot pushed the nurse’s button, smiling at his husband. “You had appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. You’re going to be fine.”

“That’s good.” He nodded, looking at his older brother and sister. “And you guys came to keep Spottie company?”

Kat ran a hand through his hair smiling. “Brought him food, you guys some clothes, and check up on you but we can leave if you want?”

Yawning, Race snuggled into the bed. “Nah, you can stay. Spottie?”

“Yea Race?” He leaned over the bed so Race could see him.

“I love you, Pooks. Thanks.” Race’s eyes slid closed as a huge sigh of relief coasted through Spot’s body.

A knock on the door sounded as a young nurse peaked her head in. “I saw that someone hit the nurse’s button.”

“He was awake for a few minutes before falling back asleep.” Spot said, as she washed her hands before coming beside the bed.

Jack and Kat stood up and motioned to the door. “We’re going to get going. Let us know when you’re heading home.”

“Thank you for everything. And thank you for taking Tyson.” He gave them both hugs before watching them walk out.

The nurse looked at him. “Did he say anything about pain?”

“No, he just asked what happened before falling back asleep.” Spot said as she made a note on a pad of paper.

She watched the monitors for a moment before adjusting something on his IV. “Next time he’s awake just let us know. We’ll get some food for him. Is there anything I can get you? Something to drink?”

“I’m alright but thank you.” He smiled, watching her wash out before shutting the door behind her.

Sitting back in the chair, he laced their fingers together, giving them a squeeze, laying his head down on the bed. It was always the biggest relief when Race woke up after surgery, signifying that he was on the mend. He changed into the sweatpants Kat had brought before taking his place in the chair next to Race’s bed.

Several hours later, after many turns at Words with Friends with Kat, he heard movement from the bed. Looking up from his phone, he heard a groan and a couple of cuss words, before seeing the gorgeous blue eyes. “Hi handsome.”

“I look like shit, Spottie but I love you for thinking I’m still handsome.” Race croaked, reaching for the remote so he could adjust the bed. Meanwhile, Spot hit the nurses button.

Spot leaned forward grinning. “You always look handsome, stud. I’m sure you’ll look utterly gorgeous on your deathbed too.”

“That won’t be for a while.” He hissed as he attempted to move his arm as the IV tugged. “You all alone?”

“Nurse is on the way. Kat and Jack left right after you were awake and were going to pick up Tyson and take him over to their house for the night. I’ve been kicking Kat’s ass in words.” Spot grinned watching Race carefully. “How are you feeling?”

Race sighed. “Hungry and achy. Remind me never to do an appendectomy again.”

“That’s impossible since they took it out. But go for the gold.” Spot stood up, leaned over and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re alright. You gave us a scare there for a moment.”

Race looked at their laced fingers. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know but I’m glad you’re awake and talking. Hate being here without you being conscious.” Spot shrugged as the door opened.

“Glad to see you awake, Anthony.” The doctor said as he washed in before approaching the bed.

Spot stepped back, allowing both the nurse and doctor easy access to the bed. They spent the next few minutes checking over the incision and adjusting his fluids. The nurse left him with a menu, no restrictions, before telling them to use the nurse call if they needed anything.

“That was worse than a cattle prod.” Race groaned, opening up the menu and glancing at his options. “Have you eaten?”

Sitting in the chair, Spot nodded. “Kat and Jack brought nuggets and fries from McDonald’s around 5.”

“That was 3 hours ago. Want anything?” Race asked, looking up at him. “Actually, kick your shoes off and hop up here.”

“Race ….” Spot looked at his husband.

He sighed. “Sean, look I know the last few hours haven’t been easy and you look like a wreck. Hop up here so I can cuddle you properly.”

Following his husband's request, Spot snuggled into Race’s chest, being careful of his incision. “Isn’t that better? Now what do you want to eat? It’s been 3 hours since you ate and I don’t want you tearing down the halls cause you’re hungry.”

They got food figured out as Race wrapped an arm around Spot. “I love you. Thanks for holding down the camp.”

“I love you too.” Spot glanced up at him, biting his lip. “It’s a good thing you’re a heavy sleeper. I may have broken completely down this afternoon before Kat and Jack came.”

Race smiled sadly. “May have? Either you did or you didn’t.”

“I bawled like a baby. Might’ve even said the hospital should give us a frequency card.” Spot grinned.

Race kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I’m just really, really glad you’re gonna be okay, Race.”

Spot said. “I love you and I hate when you’re not by my side; sorry for being a sap but today put some things into perspective.”

Race chuckled. “I’m always the sap in the relationship so I’m glad you’re taking that position. What was put into perspective for you?”

“You’re one of the most important things in my life. I know we say I Love Yous all the time but I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how important you are to me. I don’t want to lose you. Yea, this was out of your control but this is the fifth time one of us has been in the hospital this year and I don’t know how much more my heart can take.” Spot sighed. “Don’t leave me, Anthony.”

Race’s arms tightened around him. “I love you too, Sean. I will try to be more careful. You’re one of the most important people in my life too and I love you so much. I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much pain and hurt but from now on I will try to be more careful.”

Spot nodded against his chest as his eyes closed, listening to Race’s steady heartbeat. He felt Race kiss his forehead before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. All was going to be okay in his world.

Holy crap! That was a section. What did you think? I absolutely love writing the two of them!!! What an emotional rollercoaster!

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader - Anesthetic

Long fic! - Please comment

Based loosely on “Imagine Loki’s reaction when you go in for surgery and your parent/friend gives you a plushie of him because he’s been called away on critical business. When you are on anesthesia, you’re so excited to see Loki is there and gush over the plushie, even giving him kisses. Your supervisor videotapes you.“ except also not

Also Christmas time

-

'Are you sure you'll be fine, kiddo?' Tony asked, lowering his voice.

'Seriously, kiddo?' You sighed, rolling your eyes and punching him gently.

Tony winced, rubbing the spot. 'I mean it.'

'We're basically friends, Tony, Loki and I get along swell.'

'Yea, but it's Christmas. You sure you don't wanna hitch a ride to Malibu with me and Potts?'

'Third wheeling, yea, sounds fun.' You coughed and shook your head, 'Besides, I'm still feeling a little under the weather. I'm just going to teach him the true meaning of Christmas movie bingewatching and Chinese take out and I'm sure I can throw together a half decent dinner for two.'

'You're going to make him help, right?' Tony asked.

You laughed, 'Of course, he's not useless you know. Honestly, Tony, you know he only puts the spoiled prince act around you, right? You expect nothing of him and act like he's worthless so he allows you to think that of him.'

'That sonuva...'

'Don't insult his mother, she's sounds really sweet from what he's said.'

'I was going for his dad, I've heard stories.' Tony smirked.

'Get going.' You rolled your eyes, fighting back another series of coughs.

'You sure you don't need to get that cough checked out?' Tony asked.

'It's just a little flu bug.' You assured him, waving him towards the door. 'Get going, seriously, we'll be fine.'

Tony huffed, 'Fine, but seriously, first sign of trouble. Ironman will be right here.'

'I got it, I got it.' You tightened your blanket around yourself, shuffling back to the elevator and rising back to the main floor.

The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, still wrapped tightly in your blanket, as you looked out, stepping out and looking towards the massive circular couch facing the floor to ceiling television. Loki sat in his spot, lounging and reading his book as a movie played in the background.

'Has Stark left?' Loki asked, glancing up as you reappeared.

'Yep, just the two of us now.' You replied, slumping onto the couch in your usual place and laying there for a moment, huddled in place. Sweat beads pearled on your brow and you wiped at them absently, pulling off your blanket.

Loki looked across the couch at you.

How long had it been, you wondered, the movies were on a loop, set to play by themselves. Nausea roiled in your stomach.

Loki was standing over top you, his cool hand pressed to your forehead. You sighed in relief.

Loki's eyes darkened, 'You're very warm.'

You blinked up at him, 'What?'

'Why are you so warm?'

You felt your cheeks flush for entirely different reasons, 'What do you mean?'

Loki frowned. 'Are you ill?'

The room was spinning and you felt a sudden sharp pain in your side. Gasping you grasped at your side and cringed, curling into the fetal position as you moaned.

'I'll take that as a yes.'

''M fine.' You tried to gasp, but it came out as a staggered moan.

'You don't seem fine.' Loki muttered.

'Friday, what's wrong with her?'

'Running rudimentary diagnostics now...' The AI replied.

'Don't scan me!' You tried to shout back, but your protests were cut off with another cry of pain.

Loki gripped your forehead and held you flat on the couch so you couldn't squirm as much.

You moaned, tears starting to stream down your face.

'Shh, hush now, just a moment longer, love, it'll be just a moment, easy now.' Loki murmured soothingly, stroking your brow gently.

You hiccuped, slowly unclenching your teeth and nodding as your body relaxed at Loki's touch.

'Diagnostics complete. Patient shows signs of appendicitis. Diagnosis severe, response urgent.' Friday announced.

'Appendicitis?' You squeaked.

Loki looked down at you, 'Inflammation of the appendix?' He blinked, 'Appendix. Surely you have nirnroot?'

'What?' Your body spasmed again, once more returning to a fetal position at the pain.

Loki removed his hand from your hip, allowing you to return to the comfortable position so you could best handle your pain. Though he kept his other cool hand on your forehead soothing your fever.

'Is that not how humans treat appendicitis?' Loki asked.

'Uh, no, we just cut it out. The appendix isn't strictly vital for basic survival so when it acts up we just chop it out.'

'Barbaric.' Loki muttered shaking his head.

'Well do you have this magic,' You shuddered at the pain, then clenched your teeth and tried to continue, 'nirnroot?'

'No, it's quite common on Asgard, I didn't think to just...' Loki sighed, and slowly shook his head, 'How do we get you to one of your human healers?'

'I don't think I can walk.'

'I'm certainly not going to make you in this condition.'

You hesitated. A pregnant pause filling there before finally saying, 'Uber?'

-

Loki scooped you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to the elevator. You watched as a shimmer of magic enveloped him and he was dressed in a green scarf and a long black suit jacket that you could vaguely tell hung past his waist, perhaps by his knees. It was difficult to tell from being carried in his arms. Loki had tucked you blanket back around you in his arms, despite your protests of being too warm. He insisted since it was snowing out and only a day or two before Christmas that you shouldn't make yourself sicker being out in the could without some sort of protection. Loki of course was dressed in a suit and tie, as though he had just rushed home from work at a law firm or some CEO or, you shook your head listing off the white collar job he looked like he held as he carried his sick wife out to the Uber.

Your blush deepened as you considered the fact that you looked the part of the sick wife.

When really you were an Avenger and he was a Norse god laying low in Tony Stark's tower, binge watching various Christmas and winter holiday movies on your break.

Your Uber driver barely raised an eyebrow when the two of you hurried out from The Stark Tower, it's not like you were Tony Stark, or any of the main Avengers, you were just some side people. Carefully keeping a low profile.

Sliding into the backseat, Loki settled you in on one side and belted you in, before settling himself in on the other side. You could see the driver, Lars – the app said – glancing back curiously as you would cry out in pain from time to time.

'So uh, hospital I take it?' He laughed nervously.

You laughed weakly, settling yourself in place and wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself as you looked over at Loki who was finally settling himself in. 'Yep, that's where we're going.' You cried out again, clenching your side.

'Try not to touch it.' Loki muttered quietly before looking up at Lars, 'Indeed.'

'I'll try and hurrying. And uh are you alright ma'am?'

'I think I got appendicitis.' You groaned.

'Oh man, yea ambulances are expensive, I get taking an Uber.'

Loki blinked, 'Ambulances?' He turned to you.

You blushed, shuffling awkward and looking away as you swallowed hard. 'I uh, yea, expensive.'

Loki's eyes darkened, clenching his teeth, 'Tony Stark is your boss.'

'I didn't want to make a fuss.' Your rubbed your index fingers together, trying to appear as small as possible.

Lars looked through the rearview mirror, 'Oh man, I thought your husband was just stingy, making you take an Uber.'

'The hel is an ambulance?' Loki snarled.

'Uh dude?' Lars raised his eyebrow.

'Loki don't be mad. It was already enough of a fuss making you come with me to the hospital, I didn't want to make it worse.' You mumbled.

Loki lowered his voice to a hiss, 'Yes instead we're in some strange man's car-'

You opened your mouth to protest but your response was cut off with another sharp cry, tears running down your cheeks.

Loki's annoyance deflated instantly and he pulled you towards him, hugging you tightly and stroking your back soothingly. 'It's alright, you'll be alright, we're almost there.' Loki glanced to the driver, 'How far?'

'Five minutes.'

-

The car pulled into the hospital lot and Loki carried you to the front entrance.

'You should get me a wheelchair,' You muttered, even though you preferred being in his strong arms. You could see Loki's hesitation and wondered if he preferred holding you too. But regardless, as he looked around seeing other sick patients in wheelchairs, Loki complied.

Following the signs to the emergency room, you pointed Loki towards the counter to sign in. The lady at the counter looked down at you in the wheelchair and then at Loki.

'He's my fiance.' You stammered.

Loki blushed, looking down at you then quickly fell into the lie, 'Yes.' He smiled at the lady.

'Right.. Reason for visit?'

'Appendicitis.' Loki explained.

You bit your fist, stifling your cry, gripping your side and huddling over in pain. As you straightened back up, you nodded.

'Fever?'

'103. Friday took it.' You added.

The woman nodded, her fingers typing away. She asked you a few more personal questions, having Loki wheel you back behind the counter to get your blood pressure and pulse taken, confirming your temperature.

'Now just say the word, and we can have your fiance step out at any time.' The attending nurse said, a short round man named Dan. He was bubbly and sweet, cracking jokes and kept your spirits up as he took your vital signs and despite his protective self, even Loki had a slight smile while he was talking to the man.

Instinctively, you reached for Loki's hand. You were laying in a hospital bed now, your blanket folded neatly on Loki's lap. Loki gently reached out to take your hand and you felt yourself more at ease, holding his hand.

'I'd prefer he stayed. I don't want to be alone for the holidays.' You mumbled.

Dan nodded, looking between the two of you and smiling sweetly. 'You two are adorable. Well I'll leave you alone to get changed, hun if you need help, press that red button but I'm sure your honey can help you but I know it's my job so that button calls me right over. So change into the gown so the doctor can check you more easily and then we'll get some bloodwork done and some other tests but based on your symptoms I'm pretty sure you have it bad. We don't think it's burst so there's probably some time yet still. But we're working fast, then we'll get it out of you, have some time for recovery and you'll be on your way and hopefully home in time for Christmas.' Dan smiled warmly, 'shame that it had to have such bad timing for you two, hopefully you didn't have any plans.'

Loki chuckled, squeezing your hand. 'Do you need my assistance, love?'

You blushed as Dan left the room, 'Actually yes... I don't think I can stand.'

Loki swallowed hard, 'Very well. How can I assist?'

'I can leave undergarments on...' You mumbled.

Loki nodded, face pink, looking pointedly away.

'My top I can get, it's the bottoms that will be harder.' You trailed off, mouth dry.

Loki licked his lips.

You cried out softly as you tried to raise your arms above your head to lift off your shirt. Loki sighed, turning around and facing you, looking away as much as possible as he gently pulled your shirt from you, carefully tugging it over your head, mindful of his chilly fingers sliding over your smooth bare skin.

When your head poked free, for a second, your eyes made contact with his. Your mostly bare chest rising and falling, covered only just by the bra you wore. An electrical thin line of contact held your gaze as his green eyes met yours and then the two of you looked away and Loki carefully folded your shirt, setting it on the empty chair next to one he had previously occupied.

Your eyes followed his shoulder blades through the outlines of his coat, watching his body work as he moved. He seemed stiffer than normal, he was usually so fluid in his movements. Slowly he turned back towards you, his voice deeper and rougher, 'Very well,' He began, 'Your bottoms?'

You held the hospital gown to your chest now, covering your exposed abdomen and bra and most of your modesty. It would offer you a better amount of decency for removing your bottoms but still, the act of undressing was still intimate.

Leaning back onto the bed, you used your hands to lift up your hips as Loki tugged at your bottoms, pulling them down your thighs and slowly down your legs. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stare at the ceiling, too terrified to look at his face. At last your bottoms were off and your legs were bare, save for the long hospital gown that went down past your thighs.

Loki walked past you, folding your bottoms and added that to the pile with your blanket and shirt. Then he returned to your side, settling the hospital blankets on top of you, carefully tucking you in in the most affectionate manner that only your parents had ever shown you. You smiled up at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

'Thank you.' You whispered.

Loki stroked his hand through your hair, wiping the loose strands from your face, 'Of course.' He smiled tenderly at you. Turning away, he slid his chair closer to the hospital bed that he could better talk to you and sat in silence for a while.

Moments' later, the door opened. Dan walked in, 'Hey there, just going to take some blood and do some tests now, sorry about the wait, Christmastime is always really busy. Thanks for your patience. I'll get the TV turned on so you two can watch some Christmas movies.'

You and Loki chatted some, but mostly you dozed. Some of the Christmas movies you had wanted to watch with Loki came on. Dan came back later with an IV drip, keep your fluids up he said, as food was the last thing you wanted.

Loki seemed half interested in the movies, always staring intently at you.

Laying in bed, finally slightly awake with a glass of ice water, around five in the evening, you sighed. 'So, first day of our winter break huh.'

Loki chuckled, readjusting his position in his seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair. 'I could think of more comfortable ways to spend my time.' He smirked at you.

You winced apologetically. Another wave of stabbing pain ran through your side and you cringed.

Loki straightened up, reaching for your hand.

'I'm fine.' You gasped, settling back down. Slowly sinking back into the bed, you sighed heavily.

'Don't worry yourself,' Loki muttered, 'I didn't have any other plans and well I'm not exactly one to celebrate Christmas so I may as well spend it with you.'

You smiled at him weakly, 'Thanks.'

There was a knock at the door. Dan walked in followed by a tall dark-haired, lean woman.

'Hello there! How are you two doing?' Dan beamed.

The woman looked between the two of you apologetically, 'I'm Doctor Lee, I'm afraid your white blood cell count is high, so you're showing signs of infection. If you'll excuse me.' She stepped forward and moved between Loki and Dan, stepping by you, pulling back the blankets and placing her hand on your side and applying pressure. You cried out, quickly gritting your teeth to silence the noise. 'Given your physical response, the sensitivity to pressure and other tests having narrowed out other possibilities, we think it is likely appendicitis. But I think I should get a CT scan and a MRI just to be sure, I don't want jump to any unnecessary conclusions. What do you think?'

You glanced at Loki, was it possible that Tony Stark's highly advanced AI was wrong? Possibly. Should you bring it up? Probably best to wait on random surgery until absolutely necessary. 'Yea, I'll do the scans.'

Dr. Lee looked at Loki, 'You'll have to wait here. Maybe go to the cafeteria for some dinner? It's on the fifth floor, just follow the signs, you can't miss it.'

Loki glanced at you, for guidance. 'What do you think, love?'

Dan cut in, 'Then again, it'll probably only be about fifteen minutes.'

Dr. Lee nodded, 'Good point, it'll be quite short. Just wait here, sir, we'll have her back in a moment, don't worry, we'll keep her safe.'

Loki eyed her darkly before nodding stiffly.

Dr. Lee walked out of the room followed by Dan.

Loki turned once more and gripped your hand, smoothing his thumb over your hand worriedly. 'I hate Midgardian technology.'

'A lot of this stuff is donated by Stark, I think, it's pretty good quality.'

'Even worse.'

'Loki.'

Loki muttered darkly.

'I'll be fine.'

Loki sighed and nodded, 'They just cut out your organ and toss it away.'

'I'm sure they're a little more thoughtful with it.'

Loki looked at you pointedly.

You didn't know how you became the one comforting him. 'Loki I'll be fine.'

The door opened and a new nurse walked in, 'Hey, I'm Tracy, I'll be the one taking you for your imaging. Appendicitis? That's rough, I had a sister who had that.'

Tracy chatted the whole way to the imaging rooms. She was young but sweet, commenting on your cute fiance, and gushing about how lucky you were to have him, lamenting over her recent breakup but in a way that made you feel for her. She never learned she said, but you found yourself liking her and almost wishing you could be friends with her still even after your short peek into her life.

The CT scan was a short simple image, you laid in your bed, slid into the tube and the pictures were taken. It was loud but nothing too terrible, then you were on your way.

The MRI on the other hand was uproariously loud and claustrophobic. The tube felt like it was crushing in around you and its giant gaping tons of metal would collapse on you while you were inside it and the hospital would forget about you and no one would ever come looking for you.

Except Loki.

You smiled at the thought of Loki angrily tearing apart the banging, wrenching machine, demanding you be brought out from the wreckage.

Despite the headphones and music of your choice to cancel out some of the noise, it was stupendously loud, banging and shaking and rattling your brain to the very stem. You didn't have a headache before but you did now.

You returned to your fantasy of Loki destroying the loud machine and decided that he would somehow save you alive from it, alive and happy and together. Your smile grew.

Slowly you were tugged back out from the banging, wrenching, machine and pulled back to your bed, Tracy chatting and greeting you once more. You smiled up at her, raising your hand in a halfhearted greeting, tired and spent from your trip to the angry yelling MRI beast. Longing for sleep, you nodded and agreed with her, trying to be supportive but really just feeling in pain.

Then, the door opened and you were back in your room.

Loki looked up, his face lighting up as he saw you slide back into the room.

Tracy smiled looking at him, 'There you go, all yours.' She waved at the two of you and walked back out of the room.

'How was it?' Loki asked, scooting his chair back towards you.

You rest your arm over your face, 'Loud.'

Loki, having no idea what you were talking about, took your hand in his and simply held it sympathetically. 'I worried about you.'

'Thank you.'

'I pictured you breaking the machine.' You giggled.

'Are you delirious?' Loki asked.

'I think sleep deprived.'

Loki nodded slowly. 'Erm, very well.'

'Sorry.'

'You're fine.'

The door opened and Dr. Lee walked in, 'Alright, we're going to get you moved out of the ER since we're confirmed it's appendicitis, and need to clear up beds for ER patients, and this is going to be more of an extended stay thing, but yes, you're results are confirmed. So if you can gather up her things, sir. We're going to move you to the main wing.'

Dan walked in behind Dr. Lee, 'I'll be pushing you there, it was nice meeting you two. Hope you get to feeling better. Good luck on the wedding and Merry Christmas! Off we go!'

'Just like that.' Loki said.

'The OR is currently setting up, but we have to make room in the ER, so we're going to get you situated while it's setting up and as soon as the OR is available we can operate.'

Loki nodded slowly, 'Good. Good then.'

Dr. Lee smiled, 'Thank you for being understanding.'

Dan pushed your bed off at a breakneck speed, zooming around corners as Loki rushed to keep up, having no clue where he was going in the labyrinth that was the hospital. Eventually you found yourselves in a new room inside a new wing, fortunate to be in a single patient room.

Dan saluted you and Loki before turning and hurrying back to the ER.

It was around six now and Loki set your things down on window ledge before looking around the room that was vaguely decorated for Christmas.

'Oh look, Loki, there's a recliner.'

Loki looked at the large chair and raised his eyebrow before tentatively sitting down and leaning back, his legs shooting forward as he was finally able to sit comfortably. He sighed and smiled, 'Well this is an improvement.'

You smiled tiredly at him, gritting your teeth as another wave of pain went through you.

Loki stood up, sitting on the bed and resting his hand on yours. 'You'll get through this.'

You nodded, beat and exhausted.

A soft knock came from the door, 'Hi, I'm your nurse Kristin, I have some painkillers for you. Dr Lee said she didn't want you to have any earlier today, I know it's stupid but she was worried it would mess with the test results. It's cruel hun, but sometimes they come back weird.' She shook her head and pursed her lips, holding up the syringe, 'Let's get some of this into you.'

You looked at her like an angel.

Loki pulled away from you, moving to the side so Kristin could properly reach your iv.

The flood of cold fluids burned into your hand for a moment, drawing some of the sensation of pain from your side and slowly easing the pain in your side. Your head lolled back and you sighed eyes fluttering.

'It's just a little vicodin, nothing too much, but it should help the pain considerably. When it's closer to operating time, I'll come back and get you prepped, alright?'

You nodded, 'Alrigh'.' You smiled up at her. 'Thanks.'

Loki chuckled and shook his head.

'Now press that red button if you need help, ok?'

You nodded, 'Ok.'

'Thank you, nurse.' Loki murmured.

Kristin left the room and Loki was left standing over you, staring down at you as you laid back in the bed, finally feeling in less pain.

'Truly a pity they couldn't give that to you sooner.' Loki muttered.

'No shit.' You mumbled back, blinking groggily. 'I think you could punch me and I wouldn't feel it.'

Loki raised his eyebrow.

'Well not you, but like, Tony. Well, fine, maybe I don't know... Pepper. She takes cheap shots though. Mariah. How about Mariah? I'd say Mariah, she's trained to punch hard, probably won't take a cheap shot, and doesn't have any super soldier serum in her.'

'Yes that's fair. We really are on short supply of regular humans these days.'

'No kidding.'

In less than fifteen minutes, filled with amicable chatter between you and Loki, Kristen returned.

'Alright!' Kristen announced, 'The OR is almost ready, let's get you pre-op ready. I'm going to give you some really strong painkillers and the anesthesiologist will be here shortly.'

As if on cue, another woman walked in, pushing a small cart with a mask and a myriad of tools on it.

Loki looked upright as he had moved back to the recliner, watching everything from his seat.

'I'm Trish.' The anesthesiologist introduced herself, putting the mask to your face. 'It takes a little bit for this to kick in and then we'll wheel you there. We figured you'd be calmer with your fiance here. And he can't be in the OR so,' She trailed off, looking over to Loki.

Loki was on his feet instantly, across the room and by your side, holding your hand. 'What can I do?'

Trish smiled, 'Just being here for her is fine. Once she's good and loopy, we recommend you get some food and some rest, it'll be a while before she's back. Cafeteria is on the fifth floor so feel free to get some food there.'

Loki nodded, 'Right, of course.' He smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand, gently stroking your hand as he held yours.

You smiled up at his slowly feeling harder to concentrate as you focused on him. Blinking several times, vision going out of focus, you stared up at him, feeling the world swirl and sway. Your mouth went slack as you gazed up at him. 'Loki.' You mumbled happily, gripping his hand with both of yours and squeezing it.

You could distantly make out the nurses warning him to keep his hand, and by association your hands, away from your face and the mask, but that didn't matter.

You gasped softly, 'Loki's here? Loki came?' You gushed, tears brimming in your eyes.

Loki used his free hand to wipe away your tears, 'Yes, I'm here, love, it's alright.'

'He called me love!' You looked over at the nurses, 'Did you hear that, he called me love! Loki came for me. I love you Loki. You're my favorite and I love you.'

Loki blushed, gently patting your forehead. 'It's alright, dear.' He chuckled.

Trish chuckled, 'She's a sweetheart.'

Loki nodded, still allowing you to squeeze and hug his hand to oblivion. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, your grip slackening.

'Favorite.' You murmured, dozing off.

-

Loki watched as they pushed you out of the room, slowly sinking back into his seat, gazing at the lingering touch of your hand on his. She had called him his favorite.

-

-

Your eyes slowly opened and you groaned, moaning in pain as the painkillers wore off. You heard the soft shuffle of fabric and felt someone taking your hand, 'Gentle now, careful, I'm with you.'

'Loki?' You blinked away the bleariness of your vision.

'Drink.'

A straw was pressed to your lips and you obliged, cold ice water spilling down your parched throat and running into your stomach. You sighed heavily at the first sips, 'Thanks.'

'How are you feeling?'

'I hurt, but, surprisingly less than before.'

Loki nodded, holding the cup near enough that you could reach for it easily but not too close to be obnoxious. He smoothed back your hair from your face. 'I'm glad you're well.'

'Did you get food?'

'Yes. A nurse chased me out during your surgery.' Loki looked away sheepishly.

You reached for his hand. 'I'm glad.'

'I'm just glad you're well.'

You laughed weakly, 'You said that.'

'I mean it.'

'Thanks.' You sighed, 'What'd you eat?'

'Clam chowder? I think, it's hard to tell.'

You laughed, 'Hospital food, always can count on it.'

'It's good to hear you laughing.' Loki touched your thigh gently and smiled.

You felt a deep flush heat your face. Opening your mouth to respond, you stopped, 'Do you hear that?'

Loki listened, 'I believe that's your cell phone?'

You felt yourself pale. 'Loki, how long has that been going off?'

'I haven't really paid attention to it.'

'Shit. Shit. Shit.'

Loki stood up and reached for it amongst your things, before handing it to you.

'23 Missed calls. 137 text messages.' You stared at the phone blankly.

'Who is it from?' Loki asked.

The hospital room door opened. 'Ironman.' Tony Stark walked in. 'Seriously, are you freaking kidding me? I leave you alone for like twelve hours and you get appendicitis?' Tony looked between you and Loki. 'Also only twenty of those calls are mine, and like 85 of those texts. I kinda sorta told everyone that you were in the hospital.'

You were lying in bed scrolling through your phone trying to focus your dazed brain and view the text messages and missed calls.

Loki had pulled away the moment he heard Tony's footsteps at the door.

'Tony...' You groaned dragging out his name. 'It's Christmas, you didn't seriously drag everyone away from their holiday.'

'I did not, I just alerted everyone that a team member was in the hospital for the holiday, if they choose to be shitty and not drop everything for a team member in need, that's on them.'

'Loki help me out.' You glanced at Loki.

Tony looked at Loki, 'Well when I was looking for what room you were in, I was told you were in this one, with your fiance so what sort of holiday fake dating trope-ery is this?'

You and Loki made eye contact, flushing before looking back at Tony and yelling angrily, both in denial and arguing at him that he was intruding and overstepping.

Tony held up his hands, 'Alright, alright, love birds I see I stepped on some toes. I guess you're not ready for things to be official.'

'I'm going to murder you Stark.' You muttered.

'You love me, kiddo.' Tony replied with a wink, 'Now I'm going to raid the gift shop and get this place full of well wishing goodness. Let's see the enroute status of the others and see how this Christmas party plays out, and then see how long before we can spring you. Oh and did I seriously hear that you two ordered an Uber instead of an ambulance to get here, seriously? I'm Tony freakin Stark and you guys took an Uber to the hospital?'

You winced, 'Merry Christmas?'

Loki sighed and leaned down, kissing your cheek, 'Merry Christmas, love.'

[musiclovingbitch]

Fist

Summary: Kurt ends up in the hospital while Blaine’s in the middle of a performance.

Written for the 2019 Klaine Advent prompt: fist, and the sixth @gleepotluckbigbang​ prompt: sick fics!

~1k words

on AO3

Kurt woke up to the smell of hand sanitizer and a frowning Santana Lopez.

“Oh, how the turntables have turned.” was the first thing he croaked out.

“Hey,” a trying - and - failing - to - stay - composed Santana said, putting her perfectly manicured hand on Kurt’s shoulder, “how are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” Kurt said as lightly as he could manage.

Santana frowned.

“I’ve also been worse.” Kurt added, raising an eyebrow.

Santana’s frown deepened further.

“That somehow doesn’t make me feel better. You need to work on your comforting, is that how you’re gonna comfort your kids?” she snapped, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to be comforting you?” he responded, and attempted to sit up on the bed, only to feel a stabbing pain right where his leg meets his torso.

“Ow, fuck, now I remember why I’m here.” he said, moaning in pain and sitting back down.

“You didn’t remember before?” 

“No, I’m feeling really loopy, okay? Chill, everything’s fine.”

“No one says ‘chill’ anymore, get with the times, old man.” Santana said.

“But how am I supposed to embarrass my children, then?”

“Point.” she deigned to admit.

They both remained quiet for a couple of minutes. Kurt suddenly remembered something and looked around the room, realizing what was missing.

“Hey, Santana, where’s--”

Blaine ran into the room, coat unbuttoned, phone clutched tightly in his fist, looking frantic. He scanned the room and immediately rushed over to Kurt’s side, taking his hand in his gently.

“Oh my god, baby, are you okay?” he asked, full of panic, eyes roaming over every single inch of Kurt.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Blaine’s eyes kept roaming over his body, finally settling on his face. Kurt used the hand not sandwiched between Blaine’s and brought it up to brush back some of the hair from Blaine’s forehead.

“Seriously, Blaine, I’m alright.” he assured.

Blaine went from panicked, to relieved, to bursting into tears all in the span of two seconds.

He released Kurt’s hand and raised his hands up to cover his face as he sobbed. Kurt brought his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, ignoring the tug of the I.V., and tugged him forward.

“It’s okay, come here.” he said. Blaine did nothing, simply get on weeping. “Seriously, come here, I can’t move right now.” Kurt insisted, tugging harder. 

Blaine slowly let his head fall forward, until his forehead rested slightly on Kurt’s chest. Kurt rubbed soothing circles on Blaine’s back and pressed kisses on the top of his head until he stopped crying. 

He looked around the room, and realized that sometime during all this, Santana had quietly left them alone in the room.

Seeing Blaine had calmed down significantly, he pushed him slightly away, just so that he could look into his eyes and say “Seriously, Blaine, I’m totally fine. I’m pretty sure I’d be angry with you if the situation was reversed.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Blaine said, shaking his head.

“Alright, no, I wouldn’t, but honestly, it’s kind of funny if you think about it.”

“In what way is you almost dying funny?”

“I did not almost die, oh my god.”

“Appendicitis can be fatal if you don’t get treated in time, Kurt! What if your appendix had ruptured or something?”

“You’ve been watching way too many medical dramas.”

Blaine stayed silent for a moment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he said guiltily, “I’m never going to forgive myself.” he shook his head, the ends of his mouth raising in a disgusted sneer.

“Blaine, stop that.” Kurt said, framing Blaine’s face with his hands and forcing him to look at him, “It was just a case of crappy timing. It’s not your fault that I got appendicitis twenty minutes in your performance. You didn’t even find out about it till after the performance was over, right?” he said.

Blaine continued to look up at him guiltily. “Right?” Kurt pressed. Blaine nodded as much as he could with his face being held the way that it was. “Okay, so, think about if the situations were reversed. If you’d gotten ill in the middle of my performance, would you be mad at me for showing up a little later?”

Blaine sighed. “No.”

“And yes, obviously, I wanted you next to me, but you’re here, next to me, right now, and you came as soon as you heard, didn’t you?”

Blaine sighed again, but Kurt could see he was genuinely starting to feel better. “Yes.”

“So, is there a need for you to feel bad?” Kurt asked finally.

“Yes.” Blaine said. Kurt looked at him pointedly. “No.”

Kurt smiled. “Great! Now that that’s settled, I want ice cream.”

Blaine let out a laugh. “That’s for after you get your tonsils taken out.”

Kurt pouted. “Please?” 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go ask the nurse. But I’m pretty sure you’re just going to get a bunch of ice chips.”

“Oh, fine. But I’m gonna complain about it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it being any other way.” Blaine said, and leaned over to press a gentle but firm kiss on Kurt’s mouth. He stood up to leave, but paused.

“Actually, I think I’m just gonna ask Santanna to do it, it’s been a while since she’s gotten to use her scary voice.” he said, before turning and walking out of the room.

Kurt knew it was because Blaine didn’t want to leave his side, but didn’t joke about it, because he secretly wanted Blaine to stay near him as well. Truth be told, he was much more scared than he thought he would be. And his husband’s hand in his would always make any situation better.

Barely a minute later, Blaine reentered the room. He came over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Kurt’s hand in between both of his. 

“Santana has officially been assigned the quest of finding the legendary ice chips you seek, mi lord.”

He brought Kurt’s hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it.

Kurt laughed, then winced in pain. Blaine’s face turned from playful to concerned. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Kurt tried not to laugh again, and mostly succeeded. “Don’t be sorry, you wouldn’t be my husband if you didn’t make silly jokes like that in the most inopportune of times.” he said.

“I love you.” Blaine said.

Kurt motioned for Blaine to lean closer and brought their lips together in a sweet kiss. “I love you, too.”

[disasterdeacy]

Never In My Wildest Dreams

A/N: Here is a continuation of Some Day One Day and also a request from @mariekuuuuuh who requested some domestic Bri fluff!  I’m sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I got a bit carried away lol.  There is no smut in this part, but I do have a good bit of smut written that accompanies this, so if you would like me to post a second part with smut, just let me know!!! Title comes from the Dan Auerbach song, it’s hella underrated and the only thing I could think of to name it lol.  Summary: Y/N has been having a rather shitty week, feeling sick, tired, and just all around crappy. Arriving home from work, she wants nothing more than to curl up next to Brian and sleep.... Life, however, has other plans. Word Count: 7k Pairing: Present Day Brian May x Young!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy, General Issues With Mortality, Age Gap, Mentions of Hospitals

Walking through the front door of your and Bri’s Chelsea home,  a groan of  relief left your mouth at the smell of dinner cooking. You absolutely loved being Brian’s wife and making him dinner every night, but you were absolutely  exhausted, and had no idea why.. Work hadn’t been anymore stressful than usual, you were sleeping extremely well, eating healthy, taking your vitamins... and yet somehow were still absolutely KNACKERED.

Sitting your purse down on the foyer table, you kick off your heels and pad to the kitchen, smiling widely at the sight of your husband. Brian was stood in front of the stove, your favorite GBBO apron, that Noel Fielding had nicked for you after you’d met him at the BRIT awards and told him of how much you loved the show, tied around his waist over a black button up and matching trousers. His hips were moving to the beat of ABBA, as he tasted a bit of whatever was in the main pot, nodding his head in approval at the taste.

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get so lucky. He knew how insanely tired you were, and had actually told you to go to the doctor to get tested, although you’d adamantly refused, telling him that you were 100% fine, and that he had nothing to worry about. He didn't believe you in the slightest, but, you were a grown woman and he wasn't about to infringe on your right to be a stubborn idiot. You quietly make your way over to him, admiring the way his ass looked in the right black trousers, before slipping your arms around his waist, laughing loudly as he squealed and jumped around, eyes wide.

"Sorry love, I couldn’t help it!" You grin into the kiss he places on your lips, reaching around to squeeze his ass before turning my attention to the various pots on the stove.

"Whatcha makin?" Brian smiles down at you, curling your hair behind your ear.

"Chicken soup, love. You said you haven’t been feeling well, and it always helps me. It’s my mum’s recipe. Technically." He winks at you

"It has a few key ingredient changes." He loved his mum’s cooking, but he had to make almost every single one meatless. Taking a moment to wrap his arms around you, Brian smiles and leans his forehead down to rest against yours.

"How have you been?" Sighing, you lean forward a little, pressing a kiss to Brian's nose.

"I’m feeling a bit better, still a little drained, but better."

It's a lie, which Brian seemed to notice right away, based on the look he sends you. Sighing, you throw your head back, his arms tightening  to keep you upright.

"Well alright love, if you must know I’m absolutely fucking exhausted, and can almost fainted on the Central Line earlier." Brian gapes at you, his hazel eyes widening as he takes in the severity of your words.

"Y/N! Darling, why haven’t you gone to the doctor? You really need to, especially if you’re feeling faint! Why didn’t you call me?" He leads you to a nearby chair, making you sit down, obviously concerned for you.

You roll your eyes playfully at his concern , but your heart was swelling at the same time from it.

"Bri, love I’m okay I swear! It’s probably nothing, I promise. If anything else happens I’ll go okay?"

He didn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows raised, a frown on his, but before he could retort, you take  his hands in your own, bringing them to your lips to place a few reassuring  kisses to.

"Go finish up my soup and stop your worrying Doctor May, I need some warm liquid ASAP." Laughing at your innuendo, he rolled his eyes and returned to the stove giving you a pointed look before he turned his back, a quiet sigh of relief falling from your lips.

You were feeling a little worse than you had when you had walked through the door, the usually incredible smell of Brian’s cooking making you sick to your stomach, but you definitely couldn’t let him see that.. Usually you never got sick, but this had been going on for weeks now, the exhaustion, nausea.. the whole thing was worrying you, and obviously worrying Brian. Feeling the bile rise in the back of your throat, you quickly slide from the chair, legs scraping across the tile floor as you rushed to get up, hand over your mouth.

"I gotta go to the bathroom love... "

Running as fast as you could up the stairs, you fall to your knees on the floor, not even bothering to close the door behind you before you lurch over the toilet, heaving up the sparce contents of your stomach. God, you hadn’t puked like this in years, not sense a bad run in with appendicitis in college. Your head was pounding, limbs weak, something was genuinely so wrong, and you  needed Brian, maybe even a trip to the hospital. Pushing yourself away from the toilet, you crawl to the door, weakly crying out for Brian before darkness washed over you completely.

Brian was initially worried when you all but sprinted out of the kitchen, and he quickly stirred the soup before putting it on a different burner and turning it on low. Turning off the previously used burner, he takes off his apron and scrubs his hands as fast as he could. He knew you hated when he worried but he just.... had a bad feeling.

So, despite his own chastising himself, he followed you upstairs, calling out your name gently. When you didn’t answer his knocking, he sighed and pulled open the door, but upon eeing your unconscious form on the floor, his stomach dropped, nausea over taking him. The absolute worst case scenario was filling his head, and he was already dialing 999 before his knees hit the floor beside you and somehow directing emergency services to your home. He didn’t know what to do; was nearly scared to move you, so he just stroked your hair, making sure you were laying on your side, talking to you—begging you to wake up, to be okay; assuring you that help was coming.

By the time EMS get there, Brian is  a complete wreck, absolutely terrified. He couldn’t lose you—Jesus, he couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t keep losing the most important people in his life! He rides along in the ambulance, bitching at the EMS workers when they insist on putting a heart monitor on him. Feeling empty when they make him stay behind while they whisk you away at the hospital, he sits heavily into a chair in the waiting room, still attached to the heart monitor the EMS had managed to attach to him.

God, he had never been this scared in his entire life, seeing you lying on the floor, pale, sickly, and completely defenseless... It tore his heart from his chest. Brian knew he didn't need to be alone through this, knew he needed someone with him to lean on, so with shaky hands, he pulls out his phone, and after giving Roger the scare of his life, slumps into the chair, tears falling freely from his tired hazel eyes. Groaning a bit as you came to, you attempted to open your eyes, quickly closing them when they were assaulted by the bright lights above you.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, your head was pounding, and if that damn beeping didn’t stop within the next 5 seconds, you were going to rip your ears out. ‘God, what happened? Where was I?' was all that was running through your head. The last thing that you remembered was crawling to the door in the bathroom, calling out for Brian, and then all of a sudden you were waking up in place surrounded by a  smell you knew all too well, thanks to your proclivity for childhood injury.

You were in the hospital. Swallowing the bile that had risen in the back of your throat, you attempted to sit up, only to have a nurse gently push you back onto the bed, saying that you needed to rest, because they were running a few tests to figure out why you had fainted. Your mind was immediately swirling with the worst possible results. Cancer? Heart attack? Everything that ran through your head was nothing sort of nauseating. The nurse must have seen your face turn green, and swiftly handed you  a bedpan, rubbing your back as you visited.

Tears were running down my face as the nurse handed me some ice chips, throwing the bedpan in the medical waste bin. Brian... You needed Brian. You were so weak, everything hurting, your nerves frayed, and the only person who could make you feel any semblance of normalcy was Brian. Glancing up at the nurse through teary eyes, you open your mouth to speak for the first time.

"Where’s my husband? C-can I please see him? I-I need him, please."

The kind nurse smiled, squeezing your  hand and telling you  that she would go get him. Thanking her weakly, you fall back into the bed, tears falling freely when Brian all but ran into the room.

 Brian had been sat with Roger’s arm around his shoulders when the nurse comes out to get him. He stands, wobbling a little on his feet, Roger stands too, making sure Brian doesn’t fall over

"How is she? Is she alright? Please, is she okay?"

His  voice is shaking as he speaks, and he wants to sob when the nurse tells him you’re awake and asking for him. He spares a look at Roger, but Rog just shoos him off, telling him to go. So Brian follows the nurse, bursting through the door to your room and all but collapsing in the chair by your bed, his hands reaching for you. He’s trying to keep a brave face, but he knows he’s failing as he cradled your face in his hands, looking you over frantically.

"Y-You really scared me, love. God, I thought—I didn’t know—"

He shuts his mouth, reaching for your  hand without the IV and pressed a kiss to the back of it

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much."

Brian's voice hitches with nearly every word, and he desperately tries to reign in his emotions, to no avail. Seeing Brian so emotional, his hands shaking as he grasped your hand, it was too much, and the dam that you had been desperately trying to suppress just breaks, sobs wracking your whole body.

"Oh god, Brian, I’m so scared, I’m so- oh god Bri."

Brian looked absolutely terrified as well, his eyes red rimmed, his breathing shallow, but he just held you, climbing into the bed and wrapping his arms around you,  placing kisses into your hair as he whispered words of comfort. You wanted to be optimistic, to think that everything would be okay, but given the present circumstances coupled with your exhaustion, you couldn't help but think the worst.

"Bri, what if... what if it’s ca-"

The words wouldn't even come out, the fear of the disease that almost killed your grandmother overtaking my body as Brian holds you tighter, lips against your hair as he attempts to console you.

"Shhh, Anna, it’s not that. It won’t be that. It’s going to be alright, love. There are so many other things it could be."

His mind is racing, trying to come up with anything to distract you.

"I mean—Roger was just telling me that TigerLily has an electrolyte imbalance that makes her sick in the exact same way! It went undiagnosed for a long time, but now she just watches her intake and she’s fine! So let’s just—just wait for the tests to come back before we prepare for the end of the world, hmm?"

Pressing a kiss to your hair, he sighs a bit, the action shaky.

"It’s okay, love, I’m here. I’m going to take care of you."

The words are quiet, but he means them, and he knows you know it too. The two of you lay there for what feels like ages, wrapped in one another's arms, but is probably only ten minutes or so before a nurse comes in the room,  a doctor got on her trails. Their entrance causes Brian to hold out of the bed, scrambling to his feet in an attempt to get to the doctor to find out what's happened, what was wrong with you. He just wanted to know that you were okay, and the doctor simply smiles at the two of you, introducing herself before walking to stand by your side, Brian and the nurse following behind her.

"Well, Mrs May.. your test results came back perfectly normal, save for one. But, this result explains all of your symptoms."

She pauses  for a moment, flipping the sheet. You were  about to throw up when she smiles you. ‘An odd reaction from a doctor when reading test results’ I thought.,

"Congratulations are in order you two. Mrs. May, you’re pregnant. About 10 weeks I’d say."

Brian  blinks, staring at the Dr. in complete shock. It’s like he barely comprehends what she’s said, his brows furrowing.

"I’m—I’m sorry, what?"

She repeats herself,  laughing a bit at his reaction as Brian hakes his head, blood pounding in his ears.

He looks down at you, white as a sheet. It was the last thing he was expecting, a complete shock. It wasn’t that it was a bad thing! Actually, it was the furthest thing from it. He just, well—he was 71. He hadn’t been sure it would even be POSSIBLE for them to get pregnant, and it’s not like they’d been TRYING. He runs a hand through his unruly curls, his other arm still wrapped around you. A baby. Oh my god, a BABY.

"You’re pregnant... "

His voice is little more than a whisper, trying to get the idea in his head. You couldn’t focus on anything except for the feeling of Brian’s arm around you, his gentle voice filling your ears.

"B-baby? I-I’m having a baby?"

You weren't  upset about it, you were absolutely overjoyed! You and Brian had been discussing having children together since the night he made drunk you  brownies almost 2 years ago. The two of you knew it’s what you wanted, but you weren’t exactly making an attempt to have them.

Brian had been worried in the past when you'd discussed it, citing that being his age and having a baby would be a bit... strange. He’d been a great dad to Jimmy, Louisa, and Emily, and an even better granddad, but you knew that he was still concerned at having to learn how to be the father of a newborn all over again. The doctor smiles again, shaking her head slightly.

"Babies Mrs. May, your sonar shows you’re having twins."

Brian feels very faint, and hears himself say so, the words leaving his mouth before he can think. The nurse immediately has him sit back in the chair, getting him a cold pack to put on his forehead. He looks over at you in complete disbelief; you have the same sort of look on your face. He realizes he should probably try to say SOMETHING to make it less awkward, but all he manages is.

"Well I... I guess everything works, huh?"

You can't help but burst out laughing at Brian’s words, initial concern for his well being flying out the window. Only he could make a situation as insane as this one somehow funny. Still laughing, you reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"A little too well, I'd say. "

The nurse and doctor are laughing as well as they leave the room, saying that they would like to keep you overnight to get your fluids back up. You and Brian manage a word of thanks as they leave, still shaking with laughter and disbelief at what you'd just been told.

"God Brian.. twins.. y-you.. we're having two babies.."

You looked over at Brian as you spoke, taking his hand before your eyes widen in concern at his appearance. He looked pale, hands still shaking. You knew deep down that he wasn't upset, that he was just in shock, but you had to ask, to make sure Brian was as equally excited as you. Squeezing his hand again, you raise up in the bed just enough to properly sit face to face with him.

"Bri, you-you’re not mad are you?"

 His head shoots up to look at you, hazel eyes wide. He reaches for your hands quickly, concerned as he presses a kiss to your palm.

"No! No, Y/N, love, why would you think that? No darling I could never be mad at yiy , especially over something like this.., I’m... I’m excited! I’m just.... terrified?"

He nods to himself, huffing out a laugh.

"Yeah. Absolutely terrified. And.... surprised, I guess. Really surprised. I didn’t know—I mean we weren’t sure, "

He stops talking, knowing he was just reiterating what had just been said.

"..... Two babies, Y/N! "

 Bringing his hands to your lips, you nod at him, smiling into the light kisses you were placing on his hands.

"Yeah love, two babies.."

Your eyes start to tear up, happiness bubbling up and out.

"I’m.. I’m gonna be a mom! Brian, oh my god you’ve made me a mom!"

Before you'd met Bri you were positive that you didn’t want kids, but then you met  him and  it was like your whole perspective on life changed. Then there was his worrying that it wouldn’t happen, and you finally accepted that you would never be a mom.  And you were genuinely okay with that fact, you had everything you'd ever wanted in Brian, but now? This was happiness like you'd never known.

 Brian breaks out into a smile at your excitement. No matter how many worries or concerns he had.... he just wanted you to be happy. He always wanted you to be happy. He laughs a bit, leaning forward to kiss you deeply.

"I think it’s all you, Love, "

He pauses, his throat growing thick with emotion,

"You’re going to be an amazing mum. God, I love you so much. And I love our little babies already."

He laughs a bit, teary eyed, and presses a wet kiss to your lips before sighing and standing up, smiling down at your confused look.

"I guess I should go tell Rog he can go home."

You look up at him surprised and he grins, looking a bit bashful as he runs his neck.

"I uh, was kind of freaking out earlier. He’s sitting in the waiting room.. "

Your eyes widen at his confession, he's called Roger? Not that you were surprised, Rog was always the first person that Bri called in a situation like this, you were just worried for him, you'd not even thought about how your spell had affected Brian, and you knew he wouldn't want you to either.

"Bri, are you sure you’re okay? God babe, I didn’t mean to scare you so bad, I’m so sorry."

He only smiles down at you , pressing a kiss to your forehead in reassurance, lips migrating further south to take your ear in his mouth, teeth grazing it just enough to make you giggle. Laughing as you do so, you push Bri away and towards the door, smacking his ass as he stumbles away.

"Go tell Rog that I’m not dying, just that your sperm is a little too potent."

 He's still vividly blushing when he reached the waiting room, both Roger, Sarina, AND Tigerlily were standing there, eyes wide and full of questuons. Brian is a bit meek, voice soft when he tells them it wasn’t exactly bad news. Roger makes a HUGE scene of course, whooping and hollering, and teasing him. Sarina and Tigerlily are just as excited, just a bit more reserved about it. Tigerlily was already asking if she could tell her siblings, her eyes bright.

Brian is a bit overwhelmed, and doesn’t quite know what all to say to any of them. Luckily Sarina gets Roger to calm down, and the blonde man decides that the Mays should have some space. They give a confused Brian a bag of food,  Tigerlily explains that food was a necessity for you to feel better, and that sure, maybe ramen wasn't the healthiest call, but it was your favorite, and that's all that mattered.

Brian wraps the young woman in a big hug, smiling widely as the whole Taylor family leaves, shaking his head as he returns to your room.

"Alright so, I’m not sure, but the entire Taylor clan might know about this by the end of the day. Not much I can do."

You laugh, and he relaxes a little bit, going to sit beside you again.

"How are you feeling now? Hungry? Because your friends certainly went all in for you."

Happily taking the bag from Brian, your stomach rumbles as you smell the ramen inside. Whatever drugs were being pumped into your body through the IV were doing the lord’s work, because you felt immensely better than you had a few hours earlier, and your appetite was back in full force. Opening the bowl you groaned, god Lily knew you so well. Brian laughed as you dug into the ramen.

"The Taylor clan can tell the whole damn world if they keep bringing me food like this."

The broth was warming you from the inside out, the noodles and bamboo root hitting the spot and filling your previously empty stomach.  Brian simply watches you eat, a dopey smile on his face. After you finish, Brian took the trash and dumped it in the recycling bin outside, smiling as you make room for him in the bed, patting the space beside you. His smile widens and he crawls in beside you, your body curling into him, head resting against his neck. It was silent for a while, Brian holding you, randomly placing kisses into your hair. Lying there you allowed your thoughts to wander to what Brian had said, about how the Taylor clan was going to spread the news like bonfire. Tightening your hold around Brian's waist, you sigh, mind wandering.

"Bri, we have to discuss how to break the news to everyone.."

Brian hummed in agreement, murmuring into your hair

"Well, do you want to wait until the three month mark? Isn’t that usually what’s done? And then we can... we can announce it however we like. It doesn’t have to be fancy if you don’t want it to be. I’ll do whatever is best for you."

He smiles a little, biting his bottom lip to try and tame it, not wanting to seem TOO eager.

"I’m excited, I think. I mean, I AM excited. It just had to... settle in. I mean, I’ll spread the news all over Instagram if you want me to, "

He chuckles to himself, arms tightening around you.

"I think the majority will be thrilled."

Seeing him so happy made you happier than you'd ever thought possible, and you  knew he’d been worried about being able to have children with you, but he never let it show, never made it obvious.  But, he didn’t know that you'd heard him crying countless times while watching videos of babies, videos of you with his youngest grand kids.. he wanted to have a baby with you so badly, and now, now the two of you were having two when you didn’t think that just one would be possible..

Nodding into his chest you showed him that you knew he was right, waiting another 2 weeks to publicly announce the pregnancy was the best thing to do. For now, you’d keep it between you and your families and friends, just basking in the fact that you were going to be parents. But, agreeing to hold off on the announcement didn't mean you couldn't imagine it. Chuckling a little, you sit up, resting your head on your hands on top of his chest.

"Can we please do a really cute announcement on Instagram? Like, something that’ll make everyone cry? Because, personally I want to see everyone cry. "

Brian laughed loudly at your words, squeezing you tighter as you  joined him, unable to keep your smile from pulling at your lips. Reaching down to touch your stomach, the first time you’d done it since being told you were pregnant.  Your stomach was still relatively flat, well not exactly flat, it never had been, but normal, and yet, in a few weeks you would start showing and there would be no going back, well technically there was no going back now, but it almost didn't feel as if this whole situation would be real until you could see it for yourself. Sighing in contentment, you press kiss to Brian’s chest as he reaches down to touch your stomach as well, tears welling in his eyes.

"I didn’t know it was possible to love you even more than I already did when I left home this morning, and yet here we are."

 He chuckles through his tears, rubbing your tummy gently, just thinking about how there were two little lives growing there, lives that the two of you had made!

"I feel the same way, truly."

He snuggles with you, considering the other things you’d said

"Of course we’ll make a big public to-do about it, love. We’ll work together to make it the most tear inducing announcement the world has ever seen."

Laughing a little, he shakes his head in thought.

"Freddie was always good at things like that. Maybe he’s rubbed off on me. And, well, Rog is quite good at being dramatic as well. So things seem promising."

He's teasing, but still serious, getting more excited the more he talks.

"Oh, Anne will be absolutely over the moon! Get ready for tons of baby clothes from her."

You smiled at Bri’s mentioning of Freddie, he rarely did that, and when he did, it was because he was beyond happy, and after the past few years you’d had, seeing him so insanely happy was all that mattered.

"Do you think Fred would like me? Like, would he approve of me for you?"

You knew it was insane to ask, but you really wanted to know. Freddie was such an important and integral part of his life, and you just... needed to know..

Brian was a bit thrown by your question- surprised by it. You'd never really asked about Freddie. Not so forward, at least. Brian didn't blame you; he didn't talk about Freddie all the time. Not that he didn't think about his friend every day, it just... hurt. Still. He figured it always would.  He supposed he hadn't exactly given you a lot of guidance on how to handle the subject.

"Of course he'd like you."

His voice is soft as he considers his words. There's a pause, and he huffs out a quiet laugh.

"He'd probably tell me you're the only one that actually makes any sense for me. Though, he might only say that to get a rise out of me, seeing as the two of you are so alike."

He laughs at your surprised expression

"I'm serious, love. It's a bit ridiculous, actually. Rog and I have both talked about it."

You burst out laughing at Bri’s statement. You and Freddie Mercury? Similar? You weren't one to argue with the man who had known him the best, but, that didn't mean you actually believed it.

"So, I’m like Freddie? Genuinely? Because if that’s the truth, that might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Brian knew how much you absolutely adored queen, knew how much the band meant to you as you'd’ been a fan for almost 20 years, nearly your entire life. And he knew how much you admired and adored Freddie, although you had never really talked about it, because you knew just how painful it was for him. Brian had been incredibly open about his struggles with depression and all of the things that would set him off, but never once had he mentioned Fred, and you respected that and left it well enough alone.

 He simply smiles, his face a mixture of fondness and sadness, his voice the same. But he doesn’t shy away from speaking about it. He figures he owes you that much at least

"I’m serious. I mean, the two of you aren’t twins or anything—I don’t think the world could handle another Freddie. Or YOU, for that matter."

He grins at you, poking you gently in the ribs

"But yes. You have the same sense of humor, the same kindness—the same interests, even. And..."

He shrugs, blushing a little.

"You both care for and support me in ways no one else has. Differently, of course. But... still uniquely."

 Emotions bubbling up, you swallow the lump in your throat.   Hearing Brian be so open about something you’d never heard him talk about made your heart burst, it felt as if the final beam had fallen into place. Reaching up, you brush a stray tear from his cheek, one that you were willing to place cold hard US dollars on he hadn’t realized had escaped his eye.

"Well, I’ll just have to make sure I give you enough love and support for 2 people then huh?"

Placing a gentle kiss to his lips, your smile soon causing you to pull away as Brian curled himself into your side, placing butterfly kisses down your neck until his head came to rest at your chest.

"Also love,"

You chuckled, pulling at a stray curl on his head.

"The world is about to get TWO more of me.. and you, but, mostly me I’m willing to bet. Ya know, American genes and all."

 He scoffs at you, trying to hide his emotions, even though he knew he didn’t have to.

"American genes? Oh, Anna, you are SORELY underestimating the May genes. Just you wait—they’ll be just like me, and it’ll drive both of us absolutely mad."

He smiles a bit at you before it fades. Sighing, he touches your cheek.

"You can ask about him, you know. If ever you want to. It’s a sore subject, but.... but I need to be more open in remembering him."

Leaning forward to place a kiss to his lips, smiling into it before burying your face into his neck. You knew that he wouldn’t mind me asking about Fred, but you also didn’t want him to think that you were nosy, putting your nose somewhere it didn’t belong.

You had never met Freddie, never met Jim, only met Mary once... You just didn’t feel like you belonged in that world, I mean, you had almost passed out when John had turned up at your house, wedding present in hand, a few weeks after you’d returned from the honeymoon.

"I love you so much Bri, but you’ll regret telling me that. I’ll never shut up about him now."

You laugh into his chest, his hands pinching your sides playfully, tickling you until you were a laughing mess against him.

"Dirty move Doctor May! Tickling the mother of your children, that’s a low blow."

At the mention of his children, you couldn’t help but think of Jimmy, Louisa, and Emily. What their reactions would be to the baby. You groaned, grabbing the bed remote and lying it all the way back, allowing the two of you to cuddle up closer, and far more comfortably. Brian’s grip on you tightened, hazel eyes looking down into your’s. He knew something was wrong, something was bothering you. Twisting around, you lie down on your stomach, deciding to revel in the feeling while you could.

"How do you think your kids are going to take the news?"

He knew that there was  more you want to say but he doesn’t pry—just waits for you to decide when to ask. His heart aches a little when the words fall from your lips, his hand stilling on your back.

"... I’m not sure, love. It’ll be another big change, and they’ve proven themselves unreliable when it comes to being mature about those."

His voice is tight. He hated that his kids were acting the way they were. It made him mad, but also just.... extremely sad. He knew they’d like you if they’d give you the chance.

"I mean.... maybe the twins will help them realize how serious you and I are?"

He seems lost in thought for a moment, and then he shrugs.

"They’ll take it however they take it, Y/N. It’ll be alright. It’s their own issue."

You wanted to be optimistic, wanted to believe that what Brian said was true. That, because of these little miracles inside of you, his children would come around to your marriage. You had apologized to Brian about a million times throughout the duration of your relationship, for coming between his children and him, only for him to give you the same answer he’d just given you. Lying your head down on your arms, you hum in contentment as Brian runs his hands through your hair.

"I know Bri. You know how I am, I just want everyone to get along."

You chuckled a little at how naive it sound.

"But, I know that I have to think about us first, about making the best home and foundation for our children."

You paused, eyes widening slightly.

"Fucking hell Bri, we’re having children. Like, actual kids."

Your voice was shaking a bit, the reality finally setting in for REAL. You'd thought that it had set in the minute you'd been told, but this, this was the first time you had that overwhelming sense of ‘I’m going to be a mom.

 Brian grimaced up at the ceiling, already going through the list of things he had to do to prepare the house.

"Yeah. Jesus.”

He sighs, his worries coming back.  He taps his fingers over your lower back, mind racing. God, having two new babies? He was beyond ecstatic but.... well. How long would they have him for? Ten years? Fifteen? He’d be 90 by the time they graduated, if he even lived that long (something he tried not to think about at all costs). God, would they resent him for it? Think it was weird?

“.... I’ll have to do some research for baby proofing."

He decides to stick to talking about the house, not wanting to ruin your happiness. Those were his own issues and insecurities, not your's.

"We can probably turn my office into the nursery. I don’t use it much, and it’s right off the bedroom. How does that sound?"

You knew exactly what Brian was doing, was rambling about baby proofing, about the nursery, about absolutely anything to try and keep you off of the scent of his anxieties, but you could tell something was bothering him.. You could always tell.

"Bri, love, as much as I love the image of you painting little constellations all over the nursery, what’s wrong?"

He was acting strange, his eyes not as bright as they’d been earlier in the day.

"You are still okay with this right? With the babies? I know it’s a lot, and I just, you’re okay with it? Or is it something else love?"

Leaning over, you kissed his shoulder, worried about what was going through his head. He always tried to internalize his own insecurities, something he’d done the entire time he was with both Chrissie and Anita, something you’d been working with him on for the past 2 years. You just wanted to make sure he was okay.

Brian stops himself short from his rambling, eyes downcast. He felt guilty for worrying you

"Of course I’m alright with the babies! I’m so excited for us to expand our family together, and I can’t wait to meet them and love them, and see how amazing of a mum you are. Really, It’s nothing, love."

You give him a look, and he sighs. He could never lie to you—though he still tries.

"It’s just still settling in, and the idea is nerve wracking, but I know you already know that! It’s a scary thing. You’d think I wouldn’t be so worried after already having kids, but it never gets easier."

He huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his messy curls

".... I’m just.... old, Anna."

He feels like that’s all he needs to say, just thinking about it makes him feel sad. He already doesn’t know how you’ve stayed with him and wanted him, with his age and his looks and his... capabilities

A sudden sadness washes over you at his words knowing exactly what he meant. It was something the two of you had had a few very tearful conversations about in the past. Being with someone Brian’s age you knew you wouldn’t get the 50+ years with him that you wanted, but you were determined to make the most of the time you had together. Bringing children into a relationship like this was going to be hard, and they would only get 20-30 years TOPS with their dad, just like you. But, you didn’t care. Rolling your eyes, you press your face into Brian’s neck, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"I’m not going to pretend like it’s not going to be hard, but, we’ll make it work. We always have."

You smiled into him, placing a kiss to the skin of his neck.

"We’re not going to be like normal families, I mean why would we want to be it’s boring that way. But, we’ll be a family full of love, and affection, acceptance, and happiness. We’ll give these little nuggets the best years we can with the time that we have together."

He sniffles, nodding a little.

"I know. I know, it’s just—i feel so guilty. I don’t want to put you or them through that; I don’t want to leave you alone."

He's quiet, voice shaking a little. No one ever liked talking about their own morality, but he selfishly thought he had reason to hate it even more than most. He tries to pull himself together, focusing on your words

"I’m sorry. I know you’re right. There’s nothing we can do, and I can’t... I can’t focus on that when there’s so many other things to think about."

He presses a kiss to the top of your head before speaking again, arms still around you.

".... like getting you out of this hospital and back home, for one. Did they say you had to spend the night? I’m sure you’d rather stay in our bed than this one."

He gestures to the hospital bed the two of you were squished together on.

Groaning as you attempt to get comfortable in the bed, you look at Brian for a second before pressing the nurses button.

"Yeah love they wanted to keep me overnight if I felt like I needed it, but honestly I want nothing more than to go home, take a hot bath, and have you make slow love to me."

You kissed his jaw, pulling away just in time for the nurse to come in, asking what you needed. When you sweetly explained that you felt like you were ready to go home,  she sighed, saying that you would be better at the hospital, but that it was ultimately your decision.

After assuring her that you were in capable hands, she left, returning a few moments with the paperwork for you to sign, and the declared you discharged. Letting out a sigh of relief, you crawl off of the bed, stumbling a little as you attempted to use your legs for the first time in hours. Brian was still sat on the bed as you dressed yourself, a dazed look on his face. You grin, knowing exactly what your words had done to him, before pulling sweater and leggings on.

"You alright love? Ready to go, you've got a long night ahead of you... "

Tags: @meddows-taylors @only-theclassics @toomuchlove-willkillyou @leah-halliwell92 @glasgowkisschelseasmile @cyndagoaway @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @im-just-a-musical-prostitute @rogertaylors-lipgloss @brianmayoucease 

[sandershospitalau]

Lockdown (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Archive Of Our Own

Warnings: mentions of war, panic attack, arguing, quarantine, medical stuff

————————

Four hours after quarantine.

————————

VIRGE (sent 10:22 PM):

Appendicitis? Are you sure?

ME (sent 10:22 PM):

all the tests confirm it. we're planning on removing it soon.

VIRGE (sent 10:23 PM):

Do you have enough supplies for a safe removal? Blood, the right medication?

ME (sent 10:25 PM):

the cdc is gonna get some more blood (we're a bit low with what we can access), laparoscopy equipment, and everything else we can think of that we don't have through the quarantine, but it might take a while. we only just got dinner.

VIRGE (sent 10:25 PM):

What did you get?

ME (sent 10:26 PM):

turkey sandwiches or pbjs, oranges, chips, and water. a few special dishes for a muslim couple and someone with a nut allergy.

VIRGE (sent 10:26 PM):

Are you in quarantine or at summer camp?

ME (sent 10:26 PM):

XD how's the drive?

VIRGE (sent 10:27 PM):

Quiet so far. Traffic's cleared out. Emile's playing the Spiderverse soundtrack. It's actually pretty good. Everyone ok down there?

Patton sent Virgil a thumbs-up emoji, followed by a smiling cat face. He sat on an unused bed sitting near the isolated observation room. His head leaned against the window looking into the room. His legs dangled off the bed, softly kicking back and forth. A brown paper bag laid beside him, its contents spilling onto the covers. Patton stuck his hands into the small chip bag and stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

"Is our knight in dark armor doing well?" Roman asked through a mouthful of turkey. He sat criss-cross on the floor across from Patton. His lunch sat in his lap. Nate sat beside him, staring at the ED behind his sunglasses. One hand tugged at his long hair while the other peeled his orange. Logan had pulled up a chair from his desk and ate using the bed as a table. Most of the ED's patients and visitors had tried to get some sleep, but everyone woke up for a chance at a meal. The Ceballos twins pelted each other with orange peels. The Yakimovs and McCallums, released from their makeshift cell, crowded around their daughters.

"They're on their way," Patton reported, setting down his phone.

"Patton, Roman, after you finish eating, perhaps you should find a place to sleep," Logan suggested. He spun the cap off his water and took a long drink. "I can awaken you when the situation develops." Patton hid a grin with another mouthful of chips. Logan had finally let go of the professional titles he was so strict about using at the hospital. It probably wouldn't last long, but Patton would enjoy it for however long it did.

"And miss the drama?" Roman scoffed, juggling his orange. "I would rather volunteer as tribute in the Hunger Games."

"I need to keep an eye on Jessie," Patton sighed. "If her appendix gets any worse, we'll need to speed up her surgery."

"There's something I don't get," Roman huffed. "If the CDC is making sure you've got what you need for the surgery, what's the big concern?"

"A surgery is never a guarantee, Roman," Logan sighed, fixing his glasses with his classic Teacher face. "We are slicing open a person's body and putting our hands around their organs. When doctors discuss surgical risks with their patients, they discuss every detail, no matter how unlikely. We can prepare as much as we can, but without a proper operating room, there's the chance that one of those risks will occur and we will lack the proper tools. We are not a trauma center, and many of the doctors and nurses in the quarantine have not done surgeries like this in a long time. Hospitals don't operate like medical dramas. We are not all skilled in every aspect of medical care."

"I bet this isn't how you thought Virgil's birthday planning would go," Nate chuckled, tossing an orange slice into his mouth.

"Virgil!" Patton gasped. Nate choked on his orange, coughing and hitting his chest. "Oh my goodness! How did I forget about his birthday? He's going to spend his birthday on the road!”

"Perhaps we can think of something to do here for him," Roman mused, rubbing his chin.

"Wouldn't a quick 'Happy Birthday' text suffice?" Logan asked.

"It won't, and you know it," Patton huffed, smiling.

"We can do a grand show!" Roman declared, holding his half-eaten sandwich high like a sword. "Surely even he would smile at a fun music video!"

"Perhaps something more grounded," Logan sighed, rubbing his shoulder.

"A long drive is a great way to spend a birthday," Nate said, having finished choking. "Just you, some music, and the open road. And your GPS blaring directions in your ear every time you stop at a gas station.”

"We just gotta think- what would Virgil like?" Patton hummed.

"Some peace and quiet?" Logan muttered. He took a drink from his water bottle. Something slammed against the window behind Patton. Patton and Logan jumped, water spilling onto Logan. Ms. Lakin looked through the window, both hands on the glass. Dots of blood sprinkled the rash on her arms.

"Hello, uh," Ms. Lakin stammered, voice muffled behind the glass. "I know you told me there was a call button or something but I don't know where it is, I was sleeping, and I woke up and there was blood on my arms and my chest hurts, I might be having a heart attack? I think it's a heart attack, it sounds like what my uncle told me, but I'm freaking out, and-" Ms. Lakin leaned her head against the glass. Her quick breaths fogged up the glass.

"Ms. Lakin, try to get back to your bed," Logan declared, bolting up. "We'll be right in. Dr. Foster, Mr. Christopoulos, come with me."

"Right!" Patton stammered, hopping off the stretcher. Nate pushed himself up and the trio hurried into the decontamination chamber. Patton scrambled into the biohazard suit, his cardigan making odd lumps in the suit. His sticky hands wouldn't slip into the gloves. The rubber kept rubbing red patches into his hands. Logan, suit already on, grabbed Patton's hands. He held Patton by the wrist and slipped the gloves on with one swift motion. Patton smiled up at his husband. He stuffed his feet into his boots and entered Ms. Lakin's room with Logan and Nate.

She was still leaning against the window, panting like a wild beast. Small blood smears coated her arms. Her hands ran up and down her body, rubbing the blood away. She'd dragged her monitors across the room, which were now beeping wildly as her heart rate went up. Her IVs pulls against her wrists. Crazed eyes looked up at the newcomers.

"Hello," Ms. Lakin panted. "I- I'm sorry." Her hands pulled on the collar of her hospital gown, revealing the blood sprinkled rash on her chest.

"Nate, help her to the bed," Patton said, taking a step towards Ms. Lakin.

"No!" Ms. Lakin gasped, backing away. She held a blood-stained palm out. "Don't, don't come near me."

"Ok," Patton whispered. He held his hands over his head. "Ok. We'll stay right here." For a moment, Patton wished Virgil and Emile were there. He threw that thought into his mental trashcan.

"What's happening?" Nate asked.

"Ms. Lakin, I believe you are experiencing a panic attack, possibly some paranoia" Logan explained, stepping next to Patton. "They are common symptoms of Pinto's."

"I'm dying, right?" Ms. Lakin stammered. "I- this is just what I expected, this is death."

"Try to breathe with me, Ms. Lakin," Logan said. Patton saw movement in the corner of his eye. Nurses scurried into the decontamination chamber. They would be in soon. "Calming your breathing will help you feel better. Can you sit down?" Ms. Lakin whimpered, leaning back against the window. "Breathe in for four seconds. One, two..." Ms. Lakin gasped, chest lifting as Logan counted. "Three, four. Now hold the breath for seven seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." As soon as Logan stopped counting, Ms. Lakin let out a long, shaky breath.

"Let's go back to bed," Patton said softly. "You can sleep."

"I looked up Pinto's," Ms. Lakin gasped with a death grip on her gown. "The bleeding, I'm getting worse, I'm going to die."

"You won't die," Patton assured her. He took a careful step towards her, then another. "We're taking care of you. I'm sure some sleep will make you feel better." Patton held out his hand. The death-grip of Ms. Lakin's right hand began to relax. She moved her shaking hand towards Patton. The observation room doors creaked open. A pair of nurses used the only suits left and stepped into the room. Ms. Lakin pulled her hand back.

"No, you need to leave!" Ms. Lakin stammered, shaking her head. "Leave!"

"We're here to help you," Patton said. As soon as he took another step towards Ms. Lakin, Patton knew he had made a mistake. Ms. Lakin's leg shot up and hit... a very uncomfortable spot, to say the least. Patton stumbled back, groaning. Logan's hands steadied him. Nate charged past the couple. Ms. Lakin flailed her hands and Nate grabbed her wrists. He pulled her arms behind her as the monitors went crazy.

"Don't touch me!" Ms. Lakin shouted. Nate dragged her across the room as the two nurses swarmed Ms. Lakin. Nate shoved her onto the bed and with the help of one of the nurses pinned Ms. Lakin to the bed. The other nurse hurried to the cabinets bathed in dull yellow light. They grabbed a small vial and a syringe while Logan joined in the efforts to hold Ms. Lakin down. The patient thrashed against her captors, her eyes resembling a wild animal in a cage. Patton hadn't realized just what an 'endocrinal dysfunction' meant until that moment.

"You're keeping me in here with a corpse!" Ms. Lakin growled. The nurse filled the syringe with what was in the vial and rushed to Ms. Lakin's IV. They pushed the syringe into the IV. Slowly but surely, Ms. Lakin's thrashing calmed down. Her limbs relaxed. She didn't push against Nate and Logan. Her body laid limb on the bed, heart rate going down. Her eyes drifted closed. A collective sigh of relief filled the room.

"Didn't know she was this bad," Nate huffed, stretching his arms overhead.

"If she was asleep, she wouldn't have known when she started bleeding," Logan huffed, crossing his arms. "From there, she moved onto the more emotional stages of the disease."

"You good, Patton?" Nate asked. Patton leaned with his elbows on his knees. He gave the group a thumbs-up and groaned.

————————

As a theatre kid, Roman could never resist the call of musical cast recordings. If he heard the proper notes, he was like a bloodhound- he'd hunt down the source and indulge in melodramatic singing and general narcissism. How could he not? Theatre was basically magic, after all. It could always keep him entertained. So as he listened to Thomas, Joan, and Logan gabber on, he hummed the Waitress soundtrack under his breath. He leaned against the door to the small room where they'd set up Thomas's TV.

"Be honest," Thomas huffed. His face bounced on the TV screen, showing his office in live time. A desk lamp lit up the papers littering the desk's surface and Thomas's droopy face. His eyes were looking particularly Virgil-like that night. "What are Ms. Lakin's recovery chances?"

"Considering Nurse Lawson and Dr. Picani are only about halfway to Atlanta," Logan sighed, fixing his glasses. "The chances are in the lower range of probability. We have everything we need to keep her comfortable and stabilize her mood swings with some accuracy."

"What's the progress on Jessie McCallum's surgery?" Thomas sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"We're still waiting on the CDC to get the stuff through," Joan explained. "She's stable for now. We've started her on ampicillin. Since Patton's stuck down here, he's gonna help with her case."

"Hey, you guys are low on blood, right?" Roman said, raising his hand. "Maybe we can do a blood drive or something with the folks we've got here? Would that help?"

"Good idea," Joan said, looking back at Roman. "Could you handle that?"

"I'm on it," Roman chirped. He gave the group a little salute. "I'll leave the medical junk to the doctors." Roman slipped out of the room, closing the door with his foot. His hands fiddled in the pockets of his letter jacket. He got this. He could do a blood drive. He'd organized plenty of blood drives in normal situations. In fact, Roman promised himself he would be the first person in the ED to volunteer his blood for Jessie (he was O-, after all, and in perfect health, not to brag or anything). Perhaps it was a bit more stressful when he was collecting blood for a person with a face instead of expressionless statistics on a page, but that wouldn't change anything! He finally had something to do!

"Ok, when the doctor started using phrases like 'you'll pass away', what could I say?" a quiet voice sang from somewhere in the ED. "I said Doctor, in plain English, tell me why I was chosen, why me of all men?" Roman would recognize a Falsettos song anywhere! But who was singing it? He was certain it wasn't the Ceballos, even though the sound came from somewhere near their bay. He padded across the ED, checking each bay he passed. Most of the patients were fast asleep. "Doctor, here's the good part, at least death means I'll never be scared about dying again." Roman walked past Jessie's bed. The teen was safely asleep, but her face was squished into a frown. When he moved past her bay, he saw Milena, her bed pulled up so she could sit straight.

"Let's get on with living while we can and not play dumb. Death's gonna-" Milena looked up at Roman. "Crap. Was I singing too loud?"

"You're alright," Roman chuckled, shaking his head. "I heard the call of my people."

"Are you a Falsettos fan?" Milena asked.

"I am an everything fan, hon," Roman scoffed, whisking a hand past his face like he was flipping long hair.

"I'm in the drama club at school," Milena admitted. "If I wasn't so busy with sports, I'd probably audition for the school musical. Then again, I don't think I'll be playing sports for a while, so I might get the chance."

"I say go for it," Roman said. "Musicals are amazing."

"Yeah," Milena muttered, nodding softly. "That song's a bit of a vent song for me right now.”

"I'm not a doctor, but I don't think you're in danger anymore," Roman said. He moved to the edge of Milena's bed and leaned his hands against the plastic railing.

"I know," Milena huffed. "But with my parents this close to murder and Jessie..." Milena crossed her arms. "I just can't believe them. They can't even come see me now. They're probably freaking out about me, though. Parents, huh?"

"Yeah, that's pretty normal," Roman sighed, absentmindedly nodding. His Dad would have flipped if Roman was in a car accident. Then again, he probably wouldn't have cared if it was Rem- "Your family really hates the McCallums."

"That's an understatement," Milena grunted.

"I suppose you've got more of a reason now," Roman muttered.

"Hey, it's not Jessie's fault," Milena snapped. "We just didn't see the car coming." Roman looked up at the teen. He cocked his head a bit.

"You don't hate her?" Roman asked. Milena shifted.

”I tolerate her,” Milena muttered. “But that doesn’t mean it’s fun to have her family fighting mine.”

”You seem to do more than tolerate her,” Roman snorted, glancing at Jessie’s bed. “You looked worried when Jessie puked.”

”Well, who wouldn’t be?” Milena snapped.

”Let’s not wake anyone up, Whizzer Frown,” Roman chuckled.

”A grown man insulting a teenager,” Milena snorted. “Is that a new low for you, or is that how you spend your nights?”

”I just...” Roman searched for the right words, waving a hand around. If his creativity meant anything, it needed to work now. “I know sometimes in life, you become close to someone that you wish you didn’t know, for whatever reason. People don’t approve of you or that person is disliked or they’ve done things to you or others... but when it comes to Jessie, I don’t think you should be ashamed. Your parents may not agree, but with time, there could be a great future before ye!”

”Even after I crashed the car?” Milena snapped. Roman stood straighter, removing his hands from the plastic railing. “Her parents were right. It was my fault. I distracted her. I was crying, she tried to comfort me, and she took the eyes off the road. I don’t think anyone will want us to be friends after that, especially not Jessie.” Milena pushed the bed controls. Her bed unfolded, laying her down flat.

”It-“ Roman said.

”It’s late, I’m tired,” Milena grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t even know who you are. Leave me alone.” Roman lingered at the edge of the bed for a moment. Then, he shook his head and padded away. He had a blood drive to organize.

————————

"At the end of the day, all they can Scooby-Dooby-Doo is accept Ms. Lakin's mood swings as they come and keep being patient," Emile sighed. Virgil typed every word into his text to Logan, leaving out the cartoon references. "Patton did a fairly good job, he just spooked her."

"And sent," Virgil muttered, sending the ridiculously long text. He yawned softly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He glanced out the window to the dark swamps beyond. "Are you sure about this backroad?”

"You said it yourself, we'll never get through that accident on the highway," Emile sighed. "I've taken this road a few times. It's pretty in the daylight!"

"Uh-huh," Virgil sighed. "You ever get kneed by a patient?"

"I haven't had too many violent patients," Emile admitted.

"Lucky man," Virgil scoffed. "I once had a terrified twelve-year-old chomp down on my wrist. I still got a little scar." Virgil flipped his hood over his head and curled into the space between the car door and the seat. "Wake me up in, like, half an hour, and we can swap spots."

"I've got a playlist of calmer songs I can play," Emile said. "I've got Here Comes a Thought, Everything Stays, A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes..."

"I'd rather you have your upbeat songs than fall asleep to a lullaby and crash the car," Virgil mumbled, closing his eyes. His mind hopped down rabbit holes, traveling along strands of thought he could only brush past. He was vaguely aware of the peppy songs coming from the radio. His hoodie was a warm hug wrapped around his arms. His hand rubbed the stitched purple flannel.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear Virgil, happy birthday to you!" Mom's giant, muscular arms wrapped around Virgil in a giant bear hug from behind. Her fingers tickled his chin.

"Mom!" Virgil whined, smiling. He tucked his arms under hers and tried to push her off.

"Hey, it's not every day my kid turns seven!" Mom laughed. Her hands ruffled his messy brown hair. Virgil smoothed it back down as Mom crouched next to his chair. "I'm sorry we don't have a cake this year, kiddo."

"Cake isn't healthy, anyway," Virgil said, shrugging. "I don't want either of us to get some disease from bad store cake."

"My little worrywart," Mom chuckled, shaking her head like she always did whenever Virgil amazed her. "I've got some chicken strips, ramen, some soy sauce, and some veggies. So, for your birthday treat, I'm going to make proper ramen!" Mom stood straight, hands on her hips like a superhero.

"Isn't the ramen we have proper ramen?" Virgil asked.

"Ours is going to be like ramen you'd find in Japan," Mom declared. She walked around the kitchen table towards the fridge. "I've got a recipe printed out and everything. Head into the living room, you've got your pick on the TV." Virgil hopped off the chair and scurried across the apartment to the carpeted section. He settled down on the matted brown couch and leaned over the armrest to the DVD shelf. Maybe Mom would let him watch one of her horror movies! She had so many cool movies. Virgil reached into the bottom of the shelf and pulled out The Birds. This was going to be so cool!

Gunshots echoed in the street, muffled beyond the brick walls and murky glass of the apartment. Virgil's gaze drifted out the windows. Mom's rules about gunshots were always to stay inside away from the windows. Did other kids spend their birthdays in gang riddled neighborhoods? Virgil put the movie on the armrest and scurried back into the kitchen. Mom stared at a crumpled piece of paper, muttering under her breath. Her puffy dirty blonde hair cascaded against her dark purple flannel.

"Can I just cut off the breading?" Mom muttered. Virgil scurried into the kitchen, socks slipping on the tiles. He barreled into Mom and hugged her leg. Mom yelped, jumping a little. "Hey there, stormcloud! Is something wrong?"

"I love you, Mom," Virgil muttered. He buried his face into Mom's flannel. It smelled of antiseptic, Green Soap, and ink, the wonderful smells of Mom's tattoo shop. That flannel could stop bullets.

“I lov-“

SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

Virgil's body slammed against his seatbelt, burning against the fabric. Emile's neck jutted forward, just caught by his own seatbelt. The headlights shone back into the van, lighting up Virgil and Emile's faces.

"WHAT THE HELL, PICANI?" Virgil shouted, rubbing his sore shoulder and trying to breathe. Emile groaned and looked up.

"Gator," Emile groaned. Virgil followed the glare of the headlights. Sitting in the middle of the gravel road was the biggest alligator Virgil had ever seen. Its dark green scales were littered with scars. The light reflected in its giant round eyes. It stared at the van, not blinking. Its tail slowly swished the gravel behind it. Virgil locked his door.

"Crap, crap, crap," Virgil shouted. "Lock the doors!"

"Virgil, don't panic," Emile said, rubbing his neck.

"I'm not a native Florida dude, I'm from Atlanta, I've never seen a wild alligator before!" Virgil snapped. "It can't be happy with us!"

"Well, he's not asleep," Emile muttered. "He was probably just crossing the road before we showed up. He's not that different from the marsh crocodiles I saw in Pakistan. He'll move when he's good and ready."

"Wait," Virgil huffed, shaking the nerves out of his hands. "You've been to Pakistan?"

"I was in the Army, stationed near the Waziristan region for a time," Emile explained. Virgil blinked, eyes wide, dumbfounded.

"You were in the Army," Virgil repeated. "Emile Picani, lover of every cartoon in existence, who most likely owns a dozen onesies, was in the Army? In Pakistan?"

"And Afghanistan," Emile added. "I saw a few marsh crocodiles in my time there. I'm not as well versed in reptile knowledge as the folks in Amphibia, but I know some things." Virgil leaned against his seat, staring at the ceiling.

"How did I not know that?" Virgil muttered. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"It's not something I joke about," Emile admitted, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "I usually only talk about it when I believe it can help me connect with my patients. They aren't all cartoon fans, after all."

"I-" Virgil stammered. "Ok, I can't get over this. Can I ask you some questions? Is that a problem?"

"That's alright," Emile sighed. He folded his hands in his lap.

"You won't even hurt a fly," Virgil stammered, flipping his hood down. "Why join the Army?"

"I joined out of high school," Emile explained. "Back then, I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with my life. All I really liked to do was watch cartoons. There were a lot of army recruiters at my school, so I thought serving would be a good place to start. It's not an uncommon phenomenon. There's been a bit of social psychology devoted to the study of soldiers and why they join the army, and many join not out of patriotic duty, but to find a purpose. Kind of like Hercules in his movie! He didn't train to be a hero to help people, but so he could have a strong identity." Virgil searched his brain for appropriate questions. Roman had organized a Veteran's Day thing for the kids, where they could ask some of the veteran patients currently at the hospital some questions. Virgil tried to remember what questions the kids were allowed to ask.

"What was your job?" he asked, hoping it wasn't offensive.

"Mostly grunt work at first," Emile sighed. "Keeping tents clean, gun maintenance, guard duty. I picked up the language pretty quickly. Eventually, folks looked to me when it came to talking to the locals."

"Not too surprising," Virgil muttered. "You're about as threatening as Kirby."

"Kirby can absorb people! I'd say that's pretty threatening," Emile chuckled. "In a way, I did absorb the ability to speak Pashto from them."

"Are you still in the Army? Like, are you one of those doctors who got the military to pay for their college?"

"Ha! No! I got discharged after a few years. I got plenty of scholarships for my service, though." Emile rested his hands on the wheel. "My squad leader, Sergeant Takeichi, had a gator wrestler for a brother. So, he tried to take on a marsh crocodile. He did a good job, even if he almost lost his hand."

"Were they a good squad? Wow, that sounded like I'm talking about a high school band."

"It was good, all in all. No one minded when I came out. Sergeant Takeichi had nicknames for us all. Mr. Rooster, Track & Field, Earthquake. I was the Animaniac."

"How long did it take for them to find out about your love of cartoons?”

"About ten minutes." Virgil grinned, holding back an eye roll. Emile leaned back and tucked his hands into his lap again. "I'm the only one left, now." Virgil's grin dropped.

"Oh." Virgil picked at the stitching on his hoodie. "War is hell, huh?"

"Actually, we all survived our time in Pakistan. Oh, there he goes." Virgil looked just in time to see the alligator's tail slip into the murky waters surrounding the gravel road. "See? He was just crossing the road."

"Alright, doc, hop out," Virgil huffed, unbuckling. "My turn to drive." Virgil unlocked his door and jumped out of the van. He and Emile crossed in front of the van, long shadows dancing on the gravel. Virgil crawled into the driver's seat. He unplugged Emile's phone and plugged in his own. The phone light burned Virgil's eyes. It was exactly midnight.

"Happy birthday to me," Virgil muttered, adjusting the side mirrors. "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, dear Virgil, happy birthday to me." By the time the van was once again cruising down the gravel road, Emile was slouched against the shotgun door with his eyes closed. Without looking, Virgil hit shuffle on his phone.

"Hello darkness, my old friend," the car radio muttered. Virgil sighed and let the road blur in front of him.

————————

The observation room door creaked open. Mr. McCallum slowly stuck his face out, like an animal scanning for predators. Patton stood by the desks, fiddling with the spare doctor's coat he'd found. Logan had suggested it- if Patton was going to care for Jessie, he might as well look the part.

"Folks are sleeping, so don't be loud," Nate muttered, leaning beside the door. Mr. McCallum nodded. Mrs. McCallum held his hand as the two slipped out. Mrs. Yakimov pushed the door open fully and left the room with her husband. Both couples looked around the ED, and their eyes settled on their daughters. Milena was wide awake, pulling her bed up.

"Jessie," Mrs. McCallum gasped. The McCallums raced across the ED, hands held tight. Mr. McCallum cupped his daughter's face. Jessie groaned softly and opened her eyes.

"Dad?" Jessie muttered. Mr. McCallum smiled and leaned his forehead against Jessie's. Mrs. McCallum wrapped her arms around her family.

"Milena, are you feeling ok?" Mrs. Yakimov asked, hurrying to her daughter's side.

"I was wondering when they'd let you out," Milena scoffed. "Hey, Mom."

"We're here, sweetie," Mrs. Yakimov declared. She grabbed Milena's hand and squeezed it tight. Joan slipped past Patton into Jessie's bay. As they started explaining Jessie's condition, Patton's gaze drifted up to one of the ED clocks. It was past midnight! It was officially Virgil's birthday! How did he not notice? He stalked around the desks towards where Roman slept. The public services director had finally given in to sleep after donating blood for Jessie's surgery and organizing a blood drive from all the healthy residents of the quarantine. He laid sprawled out on the stretcher underneath the isolated observation room window. His letter jacket laid over him like a blanket, arm tucked under his head.

"How 'bout you shut up, man," Roman grumbled, rolling onto his side.

"Roman," Patton whispered, shaking Roman's shoulder.

"Huh?" Roman groaned, jutting up. His sleepy eyes scanned the room before settling on Patton. He gave the doctor a goofy, half asleep smile. "Hey, Pat."

"It's Virgil's birthday," Patton explained.

"Oh, yeah," Roman yawned. "I guess it is." Roman blinked and suddenly shook his head like a dog. "It's his birthday!"

"Exactly!" Patton chirped. "We need to do something!" Roman rolled off the stretcher, stumbling onto the floor. He jumped up and grabbed Patton's hand. Roman raced down the halls, Patton scrambling to keep pace. He almost got to the quarantined doors when he turned into a half-open laundry room. Patton rubbed the walls until he found the light switch. The laundry room had an older washer and dryer stuffed in the corner. Shelves lined the walls, filled with cleaning supplies, spare blankets, pillows, and a few extra casting materials.

"Ok, you film me, and I'll do the birthday song," Roman said, padding over to the shelves. Patton scrambled for his phone and pulled up his camera. "I finally figured it out. He's going to hate this."

"Three, two, one," Patton said. He pressed record.

"It's your birthday!" Roman sang to the tune of Welcome to the Black Parade. "It's your birthday! And though you're stuck on the road driving, we didn't forget, it's your birthday! It's your birthday! I hope you know that you've made friends here, so I hope you find some happiness!" Roman stuck a vibrant pose at the end of the song, flinging out his arms. His hands slapped a shelf full of detergent. The bottles tumbled off the shelves with a loud clatter. Roman stood frozen, still smiling.

"Crap," Roman said. Patton put his phone away.

"It's ok!" Patton assured him, hurrying over. "We'll just pick these up, no harm done!"

"Hold on," Roman said, thrusting a hand in front of Patton. He squinted through the shelving unit towards the wall. "I think there's something back here."

"Like what?" Patton asked. He grabbed an armful of bottles and set them on the washer. Roman grabbed the shelving unit. The unit grinded against the floor as Roman pushed it away from the wall. Patton grabbed the other side and helped balance out everything still on the shelf. Roman squeezed into the space between the shelves and the wall.

"Patton, there's a hole back here!" Roman gasped. Patton scurried around the shelving unit and squeezed in beside Roman. Sure enough, there was a hole in the wall with rusted metal climbing upwards. Roman stuck his head into the chute. "I can't see anything. I think this is a laundry chute!" Roman pulled his head out. Dust clung to his hair. Something clicked in Patton's head. He gasped, covering his mouth. "What? Do I have bugs in my hair?"

"I just got an idea," Patton gasped. "You know how we were talking earlier about Jessie McCallum's surgery? All that stuff about things we can't predict, stuff we might need but won't be able to get?" Patton squirmed past Roman and stuck his head into the hole. "I think this is our answer!"

————————

"I've got the blueprints you asked for," Thomas sighed. His face bounced around Patton's phone, which was propped against a dusty bottle of detergent. Logan and Joan joined Patton and Roman in the laundry room, watching Thomas make his way through the hospital. "If I'm reading them right- and that's a pretty big if here, guys- that chute starts in here..." Thomas stepped into a dark room. He flicked on the lights, the phone going white for a moment.

"Hey, hey!" Roman stammered, hitting the wall. His head was deep into the chute, jacket tied around his waist. "I see light! Thomas! Tommy boy! Thomathy! Tomma-lomma-ding-dong! Thomas the dank engine! Can you hear me?" Thomas moved through the new room- another laundry room, from the looks of it. Metal groaned off-screen.

"Roman?" Thomas called. His voice echoed twice; once through the phone, once down the chute.

"It's us!" Roman cheered. "Hi!" Metal groaned again from floors above. Thomas wrung his hand through his hair.

"I'm on the third floor," Thomas muttered. "This room is pretty dusty, guys. This washer is ancient. I don't even think there's a dryer in here. We have been vastly underusing space on this floor!"

"I don't understand how the CDC missed this," Logan huffed, arms crossed. "This chute is a break in the quarantine."

"It's not on the modern blueprints," Thomas explained, shuffling the rolled-up papers stuck under his arm. "I guess we just forgot about it over time."

"This is perfect," Patton declared, clapping his hands together. "If we need something during Jessie's surgery, we could toss it down the chute and bypass the quarantine!"

"Wait, Patton," Thomas stammered. "The CDC's strict about their protocols. They'd want us to report this chute so they can seal it off."

"Thomas, if we do that, we're denying ourselves the tools we need to help Jessie!" Patton groaned.

"We're playing in the world of probabilities," Logan huffed. "Who knows if we would even require this chute? I don't believe it's worth the risk of the CDC finding out. We could possibly face charges for keeping this from them."

"If it means saving a girl's life, I'll do whatever I can," Patton declared.

"It's a pretty steep drop," Roman muttered, looking back into the chute. "How would we get stuff down without it breaking?"

"Egg drop," Joan said. All eyes turned to the medical director. "What? Like you guys didn't do egg drops in middle school. We put whatever we need in some packaging and drop it down. It'll be fine."

"You can't be agreeing with this," Logan snapped. "This chute is a danger to the whole hospital!"

"The only person with Pinto's so far is Ms. Lakin, and she's double quarantined," Joan huffed.

"Oh, we can get a giant fan up there and have it blow into the chute," Roman chirped. "All the infected dust would just fly back down here!"

"Roman, now's not the time," Logan grunted. He stalked up to Patton. "Patton, I don't understand why you're so insistent on using this chute and risking your career."

"I need to make sure Jessie's gonna be alright," Patton huffed.

"You're risking criminal charges for something you might not even need!" Logan snapped.

"Logan," Thomas said.

"I can't understand why you always do this," Logan grumbled, hands flying in front of him. "You're willing to break hospital regulation at the drop of a hat for the chance to help someone."

"Logan, that's what doctors do!" Patton huffed.

"Doctors also need to have a job to help their patients, which you'll lose eventually if you continue in this fashion," Logan hissed.

"Logan," Thomas said, this time a little harsher.

"You never listen to your own common sense!" Logan shouted.

"Logan, I love you, but can you please stop?" Patton snapped. "I, I hate this conversation."

"Logan!" Thomas shouted. "Logan, look at your coat!" Everyone's gaze drifted to Logan's white coat. Faint red dots covered Logan's sleeves. Patton stopping breathing. Very carefully, Logan peeled his coat off. He let it fall at his feet. A red, scaly rash marked with small dots of blood covered his arms.

————————

Seven hours after quarantine.

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Taglist-

@cocobearthe4th @purelyreblogstsedition @watchoutforthefanfics @moonlight22oa

[dsrctbensjourneyblog]

How it began …

To anyone that knows my husband they will be the first to tell you that he is one of the most stubborn people on the planet. Ben will not do anything that he does not want to do - When he is ready that is when it will be done. I asked - no begged on numerous occasions for him to go see a doctor and he continued putting it off ... until one day … the abdominal pain got so intense I had to rush him to the hospital …. Thinking appendicitis …. Oh boy how wrong we were!

and this is the start of Ben's journey …….

[qozxe]

hi, just want to say you look great. im not sure how to ask but i was wondering, what made you realize something was up and had to go to the doctor initially, before your diagnosis and treatments?

Thanks! The day before I went to the hospital, I went to a renaissance fair with my sister. We were out in the 105F heat, walking on uneven ground and drinking and probably being dehydrated in our closet TAZ cosplay for like 6 hours. The next morning, I woke up with what felt like period cramps, ignored it, and went to work.

As the day progressed the pain increased, and it started to gravitate to my right side. It started to get less and less easy to ignore, and by the time I got home at 6pm, I was curled in the fetal position and decided to call the nurse advice line for my local hospital. I described my symptoms, and they said I probably had appendicitis, and to go to the ER immediately. My husband rushed home from work and drove me to the emergency room, where the doctor said (word for word), “I would be surprised if you didn’t have appendicitis!”

Well, surprise.

The last step before going in to surgery was a ct scan, and when the doctor gave us the results, he solemnly told me that there was a mass on my right kidney, and it looked to be kidney cancer or lymphoma. The pain I felt was most likely due to a hemorrhage, due to my overexertion the previous day. Two days later I met with a urologist, eventually had a biopsy, got confirmed diagnosed with kidney cancer, and had my kidney taken out, 11 days after my initial ER visit.

When they found it, I was already stage 3, and my urologist said it had probably been growing for a few years already. I don’t know what I could have done to find it sooner, since it took a ct scan to discover, but I’m glad I found it when I did.

My latest ct scan showed that my cancer has started to shrink! My next ct scan is in a few weeks, so I’ll learn more about the progression (or shrinkage!) of my tumors then!