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Tracker Masterlist
Colter
Hiking Fail
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Hiking Fail
Colter x reader
WC: 2000
Reader goes for a hike and doesn't make it back as planned.
For @juneofdoom day 13 "on three"
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“Colter will find me, he will. This is what he does,” you chanted to yourself, trying to stay calm. Panicking wouldn't help anything. Never let panic take the wheel, you could hear Colter’s voice in your head.
You'd hiked this trail half a dozen times before but this was only the second time alone. Colter was working a case a few hours away that he'd thought was too dangerous to bring you along.
You hadn't complained, happy to have some down time to hike and do some self-care. That was before you'd tripped and fallen down this ravine.
You weren't sure how long you'd been lying on the ground, but the sun was starting to set and you knew that meant it would get cold soon. It was hard to maneuver your backpack with one good arm, but eventually you pulled the emergency blanket free.
You knew your leg was broken and your shoulder was dislocated but beyond that you weren't sure what else you'd injured as you'd fallen. Slowly, you managed to open and unfold the reflective Mylar blanket and cover most of your body.
Before long, its pitch black and you can't stop the shivers that are now wracking your body. Your fingers and toes are tingly and all you can do is pray that Colter knows you're missing and is looking for you.
You have no idea how much time has passed when you finally hear it. “Y/N!”
It was like a wave of warmth washing over you. “C–” you tried to call him but you couldn't. Your throat was dry and scratchy from lack of use and probably dehydration. You tried to clear your throat and tried again, “Colt– Here.” You coughed. You had to get his attention. “Here!” You finally managed to call out.
“Y/N! I'm coming,” he shouted, sounding closer than before. You heard twigs snapping from the hill above you and then he was there. “Oh, god. I'm here now. I found you.”
You sobbed in relief as he carefully brushed your hair out of your face. “Y-you came,” you hiccuped through your tears.
He smiled at you. “Of course I came. Sorry it took me so long. What happened, sweetheart?” he asked, as he taped a square of gauze to your forehead.
“I don't know.” You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “I must have tripped and the next thing I knew I was laying here. My leg is broken and my shoulder is dislocated. I tried to get up but I couldn't.”
“It's okay. I gotcha.” You felt him press his fingers to the pulse in your neck. “You're going to be okay.”
You nodded. “I'm cold. And everything hurts.”
“I know, baby. You did good getting the survival blanket out.” He shifted down to look at your leg. “I'm going to splint this and then we’ll pop your shoulder back and get you out of here. Sound like a plan?”
More tears rolled out of your eyes as you realized how much that was going to hurt. “Mmhmm. Just get it over with.”
He unfolded a splint from his backpack and situated your leg into it as carefully as he could. “I know. I'm sorry. Almost done,” he reassured you as you winced.
Once he finished, he leaned down and kissed your forehead and cheeks before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. It took your breath away for a whole new reason and momentarily distracted you from the pain. You pouted when he pulled away.
“Okay, I'm going to help you sit up now so we can fix that shoulder,” he explained. He slid his hand under your neck and slowly pulled you up to a seated position.
“Whoa.” You were suddenly overwhelmingly dizzy and lightheaded.
“Just breathe. You probably have a concussion but that should mostly be the position change,” Colter said.
It took a minute and several slow, deep breaths, but eventually the dizziness faded. “Mkay, I'm good.”
Colter probed around your shoulder trying to determine how it had popped out. Satisfied with his findings, he quickly positioned his hands or your arm. “Ready?”
“No.”
“Just try to breathe. On three, okay?”
You groaned. “You say that but then you'll actually do it on one so I'm not pre– Ah! Fuck!” You shouted as he yanked your arm back as you were talking. “Gah, you suck!”
“Sorry, I had to.” He pressed another soft kiss to your temple. “It feel better now?”
You nodded. “A little, yeah.”
“Good. I'm going to wrap you up in these blankets–”his fingers crinkled the plasticky material– “like a burrito and carry you out of here.”
Now that your shoulder felt a little better and the safe feeling of his presence was sinking in your eyelids were starting to feel heavy. “Okay,” you mumbled.
He firmly patted your cheek twice. “You have to stay awake.” He leaned over and pulled a few more things from his pack. Next thing you knew, he was dialing his sat phone. “I need a life flight in half an hour at the field by airstream. Yeah, broken leg, dislocated shoulder, mild hypothermia, and probably a concussion. Okay, thanks, Bobby.”
“Don't wanna fly,” you complained.
“Sorry, sweetheart. We're too far from a hospital.” He easily bundled you in blankets and lifted you with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.
You didn't know how he could so easily climb out of this ravine while carrying you and both your packs but he didn't even seem to struggle. You shifted your head against his chest as you tried to keep your eyes open.
“Almost there,” he said a few minutes later.
“Thanks for finding me.”
He smiled down at you. “It's my job. I'll always find you. But maybe, let's not fall down a ravine and lose your sat phone again anytime soon.”
“Never again.”
“Even better.” He glanced up as you heard a helicopter overhead. “That'll be your ride.”
Sooner than seemed possible, Colter was walking out of the tree line at the trailhead and walking you toward the helicopter 500 yards away from the airstream.
As he set you on the stretcher, he explained your fall and your injuries to the flight medic. Then he turned his attention back to you, “I'll meet you at the hospital, okay?”
You grabbed onto his arm with a death grip, a sudden adrenaline surge making you stronger then you should have been in the moment. “No! No, no, no. You have to come with me,” you pleaded. You started to hyperventilate as panic gripped you.
“Shh, shh, it's okay,” Colter tried to soothe. “There isn't enough room. I'll be there really soon.”
You shook your head making your dizziness flare up again, all the panic you'd been holding back busting to the surface. “P–please. Come.”
You heard the medic speaking to Colter but couldn't make out his words through your panicked haze. Colter nodded then a moment later you felt a pinch in your sore shoulder. You relaxed almost instantly.
“That's it,” Colter soothed. “Just relax. Sleep. I'll see you when you wake up.”
Your eyes slid closed as you were loaded into the helicopter.
You felt someone take off the warm blanket you were under before it was replaced by an even warmer one. “Mmm,” you hummed at the soothing feeling. You tried to shift to make yourself more comfortable and a sharp ache radiated through your leg before rolling through you.
A big, warm hand ran over your head and down to land softly against your cheek. You pressed in closer, knowing that hand anywhere. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you awake?”
“Uh uh,” you mumbled, not wanting to wake up yet.
“Open your eyes for me, please,” Colter asked.
With a great effort, you managed to do as he'd asked and crack open your eyes. He smiled down at you as he softly petted your cheek with his fingertips. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he returned. “How're you feeling?”
Glancing around you realized you were in a hospital room. Then you remembered the ravine and being loaded into the helicopter. “Sore,” you finally answered him. “And tired. Wh-what happened?”
“You went for a hike…” Colter started to explain.
“No,” you stopped him. “I remember. I mean, how did I get here? Last thing I remember was the helicopter in the field.”
“Oh, uh, well, the medic had to sedate you. You were having a panic attack and they needed to get you here,” he explained.
“Oof, sorry,” you apologized as you glanced down at the bed. How embarrassing.
“Hey,” he gently tilted your chin, forcing you to look at him. “You were hurt, scared, and in shock. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Just then a nurse came in. “Hey, good to see you awake.” She moved around the room checking vitals and IV fluids. “How're you feeling?”
“Sore and tired,” you reiterated.
“That's expected,” she explained. “You're not due more pain meds for a few hours but let me know if it gets unbearable, okay?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“The doctor should be in to talk with you in the next half hour or so. If you need anything from me, just press the call button.”
“Thank you,” you said, as she exited the room.
You dozed in and out of a light sleep while you waited for the doctor to come in. You startled awake when you felt the blankets lifted off your leg.
“Sorry,” the doctor said. “Didn't mean to startle you.”
“That's okay. So, how's it look? Do I get to keep it?” You joked.
“The incision looks good. We placed three plates and six screws to stabilize the fracture. It should heal just fine,” he explained. “We also x-rayed the shoulder. It reset well but you'll have a lot of soreness for the next few weeks.”
“Yippee!” you cheered sarcastically.
“You also have a moderate concussion so we will want to keep you overnight to keep an eye on that. Barring any complications you should be discharged tomorrow.”
“Sweet,” you said. “These beds really suck.”
The doctor snorted. “I hear that a lot. Get some rest, okay?”
“Will do. Thank you.”
Colter sat back in the chair he'd pulled beside the bed as the doctor left the room. “I think next time you go hike alone, you bring a spare sat phone.”
You shudder at the thought. “It'll be a long while before I'm ready to go hiking alone again.”
He took your hand and squeezed your fingers. “Still. Even if it's months away… maybe I just LoJack you.”
“Works for me.”
He laughs. “I didn't expect you to agree.”
“Yeah, well, laying stranded in the woods for hours and freezing–” you hiccuped as you sobbed.
“Oh, okay.” Colter stood and scooted into the bed beside you and pulled you into his chest. “You're okay.”
After a couple minutes, your cries turned to soft sniffles. “I really thought I was going to freeze o-or bleed to death before you found me.” Colter handed you a tissue and you blew your nose. “You were on a case and you might not have come back to even know I was missing.”
“I always call you,” he said. “Every time I have a minute I check in. And you didn't answer two calls in a row. I knew something was wrong. I always know.”
“Thank you for saving me.”
He looks down at you and guides your face to meet his eyes. “I love you. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You don't have to thank me.”
You nod. “Love you, too. I'm tired.”
He softly kisses your forehead and you soak in the comfort. “Sleep.” You scoot as close to him as possible and make yourself comfortable using him as a body pillow. “Hey, I’m thinking we get a hotel for a couple weeks while you heal up,” he whispers as if he's hoping you won't hear.
“No, thank you,” you argue, half asleep. “Wanna stay home in the airstream.”
He chuckles and hugs you as you finally fall asleep.
#colter shaw x reader#tracker fanfiction#june of doom 2025#colter shaw imagine#tracker imagine#colter shaw fanfic
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Do You Need an Ambulance?
Kelly x reader
WC: 1500 ish
She calls Kelly to take her to Med in the middle of the night.
This one is since Kelly was so close behind in my poll the other day.
@juneofdoom day 5 quote in bold below.
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A stabbing pain through your abdomen woke you from a sound sleep. You'd had some mild pain with some nausea when you'd come to bed but this was fifty times worse.
You rolled hoping that the shift in position would lessen the pain. All it did was cause your stomach to roll so violently you thought you would puke all over the bed. You managed to get yourself up and into the ensuite before emptying your stomach onto the floor. “Ugh. Damn it.” You muttered as you carefully lowered yourself to a clean spot next to the toilet.
You threw up once more before you began to dry heave. It was excruciating, intensifying the pain you'd already had even more.
When you finally stopped, you were exhausted. Your head was pounding and you felt clammy as you started to shiver.
You managed to clean up the floor before you stood gingerly. You made your way to the vanity and when you spotted your reflection you cringed. Dark circles were stark under your eyes and your skin was so pale it almost seemed translucent.
Before returning to bed, you grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. You placed it under your tongue as you flopped back onto the mattress. When it beeped you looked at the read-out: 102.2°. “Perfect,” you grumbled. “I need Kelly.”
You grabbed your phone and cringed when you saw it was only 3:51 in the morning. You tapped Kelly's name on the screen and were shocked when he answered after only one ring.
“What's wrong?” He was immediately on alert.
“Are you guys on a call? Why are you awake?” you asked, ignoring his question.
“We just got back from a fire,” he explained. “I just got out of the shower. What is wrong?”
“I need you to come pick me up,” you offered. “I don't feel good. I think it might be appendicitis.”
You could hear a staticky noise you assumed was him running his hand across his scruff. “Why do you think it's your appendix?”
“Nausea, vomiting, fever, and abdominal pain. Like really bad abdominal pain,” you explained. You shifted on the bed again and sucked in a sharp breath at the flare of worsened pain. “Fuck. Kel, it really hurts. If it's not my appendix then something else is really, really wrong.”
“Do you need an ambulance?” he asked.
“No!” You protested. “Ugh, no. I just need you to come and drive me. Please.”
“Just a second, let me tell Boden.” You heard muffled voices through the phone. “I'm coming. I'll be there in a few minutes.”
“‘Kay.” You stood and headed out of the bedroom, planning to meet him outside but even walking was making the pain worse and you ended up settling on the couch instead.
Kelly kept talking, trying to distract you. After a few minutes you heard his car shut off. “I'm parked. I'll be up in a minute.”
“I'll be here,” you tried to joke as you hung up.
The door swung open and Kelly immediately knelt beside the couch. He pushed a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. “Sweetheart, you're not looking so hot.”
You scowled. “Rude. The thermometer disagreed. It said I was 102 degrees of hot.”
Kelly just rolled his eyes at you.
“I was going to try to meet you outside, but even walking makes it hurt more.” You shifted trying to make yourself more comfortable. Tears welled in your eyes and you quickly blinked them away. “Can you carry me?”
“Of course, I can.” He kissed your forehead softly as he pushed to stand. He easily slipped his arms under your back and knees and lifted you. “Let's go get you fixed up.”
“Yes, please!”
If you thought walking hurt, it had nothing of riding in a car. Every bump in the road felt like absolute torture.
Kelly squeezed your hand, offering the only comfort he could. “Just try to breathe, sweetheart. We're almost there.”
You closed your eyes, trying to picture yourself anywhere else.
“Hey,” Kelly squeezed harder, “stay with me. Don't fall asleep.”
“I'm here,” you squeezed his hand back. You wanted to explain you were picturing white sandy beaches and rolling mountains but couldn't seem to get the words out.
What felt like several minutes later, Kelly pulled up to the ambulance entrance to Med. He quickly rounded the car and scooped you out of the car.
Maggie saw Kelly coming through the sliding doors with you in his arms. “Incoming! Rhodes! Halstead! Treatment two!”
“Jesus,” Will muttered. “What happened?”
“She thinks it's her appendix,” Kelly explained.
“What do we have?” Connor asked joining you in the treatment room.
“Possible appy,” said Will. “Why do you think it's your appendix, Y/N?”
You groaned. “It hurts.”
“Where?” Connor asked.
“BP is 160/90, heart rate 105, pulse ox 96% on room air, and temp is 102.5” Monique rattled off.
You gestured vaguely. “Here.”
Someone pressed near your belly button and you cried out in pain.
“She said she threw up earlier, too,” Kelly added.
“Hand me the ultrasound,” Connor requested. The wand was pressed near your right hip bone and you gasped in pain. “Alright, yeah. Appendix is starting to rupture. We need to get her into the OR right now.”
Kelly appeared at the head of the bed and kissed your forehead again. “See you soon.”
You smiled. “Love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“Let's move,” Will ordered.
They quickly got you up to the OR and situated for surgery. Connor leaned over you and explained that he would be right back after scrubbing. “I'll get you feeling better, deal?”
“Deal.”
A few hours later
Your eyes fluttered open to a bright room. You felt like you were floating or that you'd had several drinks. Looking around, you spotted a handsome man in the chair beside your bed.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled at you as he noticed you were awake.
You giggled. “You're pretty.”
He chuckled. “Back at ya.”
“So pretty,” you slurred. “What's your name?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “It's Kelly. You don't remember me?”
“Kelly.” You tried out his name. “I think I like you.”
He laughed, a beautiful, full body laugh, and it was the most amazing sound. “I'm glad. I don't just like you… I kinda love you.”
Your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Wow.”
“Guess what?”
“What?” You grabbed onto his forearm waiting for his response.
“We’re engaged.” He slipped a ring out of his pocket and onto your finger where a tan line was already visible.
“Wow!” you exclaimed again before yawning. “I'm sleepy.”
Kelly leaned over to kiss you softly. “Go ahead and sleep. I'll be here when you wake up.”
Another hour or so later
“Everything looks good,” you heard Connor say. “Her temp is down, so the antibiotics are doing their job. She should be awake soon.”
“How long will she be here?” Kelly asked.
“Uhh, probably two days of IV antibiotics before we will discharge,” Connor answered.
You groaned.
You felt Kelly’s fingers against your cheek. “Are you awake?”
You cracked an eye open just enough to see him sitting beside the bed. The room was dark but you could tell by the light around the shades that it was bright outside. You shook you head.
“You know who I am?” Kelly asked, smirking.
You scowled at him. “Why wouldn't I know who you are?”
“When you woke up in recovery you told me I was pretty and asked what my name is.”
You snorted. “Well, you are pretty.”
“How're you feeling?” Connor asked.
You shifted, assessing. “Sore, but way better than before.”
“Good. Sore is to be expected,” Connor said. “Do you need more for pain?”
“I think I'm okay right now. I am kind of starving though.”
Connor gave you a sympathetic look. “Sorry to break it to you but you're stuck with clear liquids only for at least a few hours. I can have the nurse grab you some broth and jello if you want.”
“Better than nothing, I guess.”
He nods. “I'll have it brought up. Then just grab a nurse if the pain gets worse, okay?”
You gave him a thumbs up and he disappeared out of the room.
“Sorry for making you miss half your shift,” you told Kelly.
“It wasn't half my shift. It was only three hours of my shift. And there is no where I would have rather have been that taking care of you when you needed me.” He chuckled. “Even if you don't know who I am.”
You rolled your eyes. “Ass.”
“You love me,” he argued.
“That doesn't mean you can't be an ass.” You stuck your tongue out at him.
“Whatever you say, dear.” He stood and kissed your forehead. “If you're feeling up to it, you have a few more visitors wanting to see you.”
You smiled. “Yes, please. I'm always up for 51.”
He nodded, as if knowing that would be your response. “I will go grab them.” He turned to leave winking at you as he went. “I love you.”
“Love you most!”
#kelly severide x reader#kelly severide imagine#one chicago fic#chicago fire fanfic#june of doom 2025#reader insert
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You're Just Talented
Connor x reader
WC: 1400 ish
Reader falls while Connor is at work. She calls him to come help her.
@juneofdoom day 4 whimper
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You weren't even sure what had happened. One minute you were walking into the living room and the next you were on the ground and your arm was bent at a very unnatural angle. You weren't sure if you had ever been in so much pain.
You wiped at your face with your good arm, trying to clear the wetness from your still falling tears. Taking deep breaths, you tried to breathe through the pain.
You grabbed your phone from where it had landed near you on the floor, thankful to find it wasn't broken. You tapped on the phone app and tapped your most recent call: Connor. As the ringtone droned on, you worried that he might be in surgery or otherwise unavailable. The voicemail picked up and you hung up trying not to panic.
Before you could consider who to call next, your phone rang and your favorite picture of Connor filled your screen. “Hello?” you answered, trying to contain your emotions.
“Hey, baby. Sorry I wasn't quick enough, what's up?”
You sniffled and tried to even your voice. “A-are you in surgery?”
“No, I just finished,” he explained. “What's wrong, sweetheart?”
“Um, can you come home?” You hiccuped as you finally lost control of the tears once more. “I fell. I don't know what happened but I was just walking to the couch and then I don't know. I, uh, I tripped, I think?” you rambled on, unable to stop the word vomit.
“Okay, alright, take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” he requested. “I'm coming right now. Are you hurt?”
You took a couple deep breaths before answering. “My–my arm. Pretty sure it's broken.” You sniffled again. “It hurts so much, Connor.”
“Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm almost to my car, I'll be there in five minutes,” he explained. “Just keep talking to me.”
You had never been so grateful to live so close to the hospital as you were now. “Okay. Um, how was surgery?”
He chuckled. “It went perfectly.” He continued to talk about how well the procedure he'd just finished had gone. You spaced out as he talked, allowing the sound of his voice to sooth you and distract you from the pain radiating through your arm.
“I'm in the elevator, I'll be there in a second.” Moments later, you heard the thunk of the deadbolt unlatching. You dropped the phone from your ear as Connor came into view. “Hi, sweetheart.”
You sagged in relief against the couch and let go. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore and you hiccuped as you cried. Connor crouched down and pulled you into his chest, careful not to jostle your injured arm.
“Just breathe,” he tried. “I know it hurts, but I need you to breathe.”
You realized you were basically hyperventilating as you cried. It took a couple tries, but you managed to suck in a couple deeper breaths and get yourself a little more under control.
“Okay, let me take a look.” He shifted back so he could examine your arm. Your forearm was bent backwards in a completely unnatural position and already had substantial bruising blooming across your skin. He placed his fingers against your wrist to check the pulse in your hand. You saw the worry in his eyes even as he tried to school his expression. “I'll be right back.”
Only a minute later, he was back with a towel, medical tape, and the triangle bandage from the first aid kit he kept in the bathroom.
He quickly and carefully braced your arm with the towel and wrapped tape around above and below the break to keep it in place. Next, he pulled the triangle bandage out of its packaging and efficiently placed and tied it into a sling to hold your arm against your torso. You bit your bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain as he moved your arm how he needed to. “I'm sorry,” he'd repeated over and over.
“This sucks,” you whined. “I don't even know how I tripped.”
He smirked. “You're just talented.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
He shifted to your other side and knelt in a position to help you up off the floor. “Let's do this carefully. Just let me take most of your weight, okay?”
“‘Kay.” You shifted your feet so they were flat on the floor and braced yourself to move.
“One, two, three,” he stood, lifting you along with him. He shifted his arm around your lower back to steady you. “You good?”
“Mmhmm.” You nodded. “Good.”
He kept his arm around you as he walked you to his car and then helped you settle into the passenger seat. He reached across you to buckle your seatbelt for you before rounding the car and climbing behind the wheel.
As he drove, you had your eyes cinched closed as you tried your best to breathe through the pain the jostling of the road was causing.
After what felt like the longest drive of your life, he pulled up to the guest parking outside the ED. He helped you out of the car and walked you towards the sliding doors with his arm wrapped around your back.
“Treatment six is ready for you,” Maggie announced as soon as you walked in. “Will! Six.”
“Got it,” Will said, heading to meet you in the room. “What happened, Y/N?”
“I apparently tripped over my own feet,” you explained.
“Did you catch yourself on the floor or did you hit something?” Will asked.
“My arm caught the coffee table.”
“Displaced forearm fracture,” Connor informed Will. “There was no radial pulse but I didn't want to try to reduce it without an x-ray.”
“What?” you asked, now panicked over the new information.
“It's okay. We're going to fix it. You'll be fine,” Connor soothed.
“Unwrap it and I'll grab the doppler to recheck,” Will said, turning to grab it from the drawers behind him.
Connor untied the makeshift sling and cut the tap holding the towel splint to your arm. “Can you set your arm here?” He slid a wheeled tray beside the bed where you could reach without moving.
You set your arm on the tray and winced as pain shot through your arm.
“Doris, push 25 micrograms of fentanyl, please,” Will requested. He powered on the doppler and pressed it firmly against your wrist. He and Connor locked eyes but neither said anything.
“Is it bad? Am I gonna lose my hand?”
“No.” Connor hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to meet his eyes. “We need an x-ray and then we pop it back in place. Your hand is fine. I promise.”
They had you covered with a lead shield moments later as the radiology tech told you how to position your arm and took all the necessary pictures.
Will and Connor discussed the x-ray while you started to feel a bit like you were floating. The pain meds were kicking in and you were suddenly feeling exponentially better if a bit sleepy.
“How is the pain now?” Will asked.
You giggled.
Will smiled. “You're a lightweight.”
Connor took your good hand and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Will is going to reset your arm and then schedule you for surgery to get you fixed up. Sound good?”
“Okie dokie pokie!” You gave Connor a dopey smile.
It took them a moment to prepare. They shifted you into a better position and Ethan came in to help hold traction on your arm so that Connor could keep you distracted.
“All set,” Will announced. “This might hurt for a second but then it should feel better, okay?”
You nodded. “Mmkay.”
You whimpered as pain shot through your arm and your fingers tingled with pins and needles. “Ow.”
“It's done.” Will pressed his index and middle fingers to your wrist. “Good radial pulse.”
“Yay!” You cheered as your eyes started to slide closed. “You saved my hand!”
Will just chuckled as he placed a splint. “You just get some rest. It’ll be a few hours before we send you up to the OR.”
Your eyes flashed open again and you gripped Connor's hand with all the strength you could muster. “You're not going back to work, right?”
“No, baby,” he said before kissing your knuckles. “I'll be right here. Just sleep.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, relaxing once more.
“You don't have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Love you,” you slurred.
The last thing you heard as sleep took you was Connor whispering, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
#connor rhodes x reader#connor rhodes imagine#one chicago fic#chicago med fanfiction#june of doom 2025#connor rhodes fanfic#reader insert
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Anyone want to submit any ideas for any of these??? 👀👀 Make sure you give me a character too! 💚
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NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
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Hi! I love your writing! I was wondering if you had any requests guidelines or things that were off limits? Thanks! Xx
Not specifically. I don't write any smut but other than that I'm pretty open. I am slooooow sometimes. Feel free to send me a request and if I have concerns I will reach out. 💜
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Decoration Disaster
Buddie x reader
WC: 1800
Sorry not sorry I couldn't pick a gif.
Reader takes a bad fall but her boys are there to make sure she's okay.
@whumpril day 13 head injury
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The phone rang three times before a familiar voice sounded. “911, what's your emergency?”
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to explain your predicament. “Hi, Maddie.”
“Y/N?” She asked. “What's going on? Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I'm fine,” you started. “I mean… mostly.”
“Are you at home?” Maddie asked.
“Yep. So I was getting some decorations out of the attic because I didn't want to wait for the guys.” You shifted slightly as you explained and a pain shot through your arm. You sucked in a sharp breath. “Ah, shit. Ouch.”
“I'm dispatching the 118. They’ll be there soon,” she said. “What happened?”
“I couldn't see around the boxes and I was just going to set them by the ladder, but I misjudged and I fell through the ladder opening.”
She gasped. “Oh, my god.”
“It's not that bad. I just think I dislocated my shoulder.”
“Help will be there in about two minutes, okay? Are you sure it's just your shoulder? Are you bleeding? Did you hit your head?” She peppered you with questions.
“Uh, not bleeding, I don't think. At least nothing significant. And I'm not sure about my head. Honestly, everything kind of hurts but the shoulder is the worst.”
She kept asking questions and then moved on to some small talk while you waited. Eventually, you heard a key in the front door before it was pushed open.
“Thanks, Mads. They’re here.”
“Y/N! You heard Buck and Eddie both yell as they made their way through the house.
“In here!” You called from the bed.
Buck and Eddie were both beside you a moment later. “Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie winced as he took you in. “What are you doing in here? Maddie said you fell down the attic ladder.”
“I did. But I thought I was fine and I got up and came in here to look in the mirror but then my arm started really hurting, so I sat here.”
“You don't know if you hit your head?” Eddie asked.
“Um, well I wasn't sure…” you felt tears well in your eyes as you stared at your boys. Buck took your hand as Eddie wrapped a BP cuff around your arm. “But the longer I sit here the more everything hurts. And my head really hurts right here.” You pointed to the back or your head just behind your ear.
Hen moved behind you and gently ran her hand over the spot. “Yeah, she's got a good size bump.”
You hiccuped as you tried to keep from sobbing as the pain and panic tried to bubble over.
“Hey,” Buck squeezed your hand to pull your attention to him. “We're here, okay? You're gonna be okay.”
You tried to wipe your face with your good arm. “I-I'm scared,” you admitted quietly.
Buck squeezed your hand. “I know. But we got you, okay?”
You sniffled. “‘Kay.”
“BP and heart rate are a little high,” Eddie directed to Hen.
“I'm kind of dizzy, too. And, uh, my ribs hurt here,” you pointed to the side with the hurt shoulder.”
Eddie just nodded, taking a mental note. “What about your neck? Any pain when you turn your head?”
You tested the motion. “Not really. It feels stiff, like when you sleep wrong but that's it.”
“Okay. I'm going to help you move over to the stretcher and then we'll get you something for pain.” Eddie explained.
Moving was significantly more painful than it had been when you sat down here. You cried out as pain shot through your torso from standing. Both Eddie and Buck offered soft reassurances as they shifted you as carefully as possible.
They quickly got you situated on the stretcher and Hen placed an IV. She pushed pain meds while Eddie finished checking your vitals. Buck continued to hold your hand and offer comfort, reminding you that everything was going to be okay.
Once they'd loaded you into the ambulance, Hen and Eddie moved around you in practiced synchronicity. Eddie placed leads for a heart monitor while Hen clipped the pulse ox to your finger and started another BP reading.
Lastly, Eddie flashed a light into your eyes causing you to wince. You saw the worried look that flashed in his eyes before he locked it down with a mask of professionalism. “Pupils are uneven, right is sluggish.”
“What does that mean?” You asked.
“It's probably just a concussion but the hospital will want to do a CT scan,” Eddie explained.
You squeezed Buck’s hand hard, trying to stay calm. Suddenly, you were overwhelmingly nauseous. “Um, I think I'm gonna be sick.”
Hen managed to place a barf bag in front of your face just in time. You threw up another two times and were surprised how much energy it had taken.
You let your head fall back against the stretcher. “I'm so tired.”
Eddie shined the light in your eyes once more. He managed to keep his face neutral which worried you more. “I need you to try and stay awake for me, okay?”
You whined. “I'm so, so tired though.”
Buck ran his free hand over your head. “We're almost there. Just try your best, okay?”
“Mmkay,” you mumbled. You tried to keep your eyes locked on them but before long you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.
–---
Your whole body felt heavy. You heard a lot of beeping, some seemed close by and others further away. You groaned trying to shift but only managing to move your fingers.
“Whoa. Y/N?” Buck asked.
Someone squeezed your fingers and then ran a hand over the top of your head. “Are you awake, cariña?”
You groaned again, trying desperately to open your eyes. You squeezed the fingers in your hand lightly once more.
“Come on, baby,” Buck begged. “You can do it. Just open those eyes for us.”
They both continued to offer words of encouragement and soft touches. Eventually, you managed to crack your eyes open just a smidge. You winced against the brightness and then slowly your vision started to clear.
“There you are,” Eddie smiled.
Buck leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I'm going to go grab the nurse. I'll be right back.”
“What happened?” Your throat felt dry.
“What's the last thing you remember?” Eddie asked, offering you a straw from a small cup of water. “Small sips.”
After a little water, your throat felt slightly better. “Uh, I was getting the decorations out of the attic. I climbed up there then I don't know.”
Buck came back with the nurse. She took a set of vitals while she asked you questions. “Do you have any pain?”
“Uh huh. Everywhere.”
She nodded. “Okay, how bad on a scale of one to ten?”
You shifted slightly trying to make yourself more comfortable but winced. “Maybe a four or five?”
“Okay. I already paged the doctor,” she explained. “He should be here soon. Once he does his exam, I'll make sure he puts in orders for more pain meds.”
“Thanks.”
She headed toward the door. “I'll be back in a minute when he gets here.”
Once she pulled the door closed, you looked back to Eddie waiting for him to finally answer your question.
He took your hand and squeezed it as Buck took the seat on your other side. “You were in the attic getting decorations out. You were carrying boxes so you couldn't see and misjudged where the ladder hole was and you fell.”
You winced, glad you couldn't remember that. “But you guys were at work. Oh, my god. Did I get knocked out? Did you have to come home and find me? I'm so sorry.”
“No.” Buck said as he placed his hand on your thigh. “You called 911. Maddie got your call and sent us.”
You scowled. “I don't remember any of that.”
“I'm not surprised.” Eddie pulled your attention back to him. “You hit your head. You lost consciousness in the ambulance. There was a subdural hematoma. They had to do surgery to relieve the pressure.”
You glanced over to Buck and the look on his face was almost enough to break you. “You scared the shit out of us, baby. You've been unconscious for thirty-six hours.”
There was a knock at the door before it swung open to reveal the doctor and the nurse. He took his time asking you questions and performing a full neuro check.
“Everything looks good,” the doctor explained. “I will get an order put in for PCA so that way you have a button to self-administer pain medication as you need. Just get some rest, okay?”
“When will I get to go home?”
The doctor chuckled. “That disappointed in our hospitality?”
“This bed isn't very comfortable,” you explained.
“Sorry to break it to you, but you'll be here for a few days at least,” he explained. “Right now we are still monitoring your intracranial pressure to make sure the bleeding has stopped. You can't even wander the halls quite yet.”
“Thank you,” Eddie said, offering his hand to shake.
They left again with the nurse promising to be right back with your pain meds.
“I can't believe you just asked when you can go home.” Buck tried to hold back his laughter. “You've been awake for ten minutes after having brain surgery and your trying for a jailbreak.”
You pouted. “This bed is not comfortable and it's too small. I don't think I can even fit one of you with me to cuddle.”
Eddie ran his fingers across your cheek. “I don't think that'd be a great idea right now anyway. Considering your dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, and your sprained ankle.”
“This sucks,” you whined.
“We’re just glad you're going to be okay,” said Eddie.
Buck took your hand. “We might not be able to cuddle, but we will be right here until you do get to go home.”
“But you have to go to work.”
“No, we don't,” Buck explained. “Bobby gave us furlough until you're home. He insisted, actually. He doesn't think our focus would be where it needs to be right now and he's not wrong.”
The nurse came back and quickly set up your meds and handed you a cord with a button. “You push that whenever your pain gets too much, okay?”
You nodded slowly. “Thank you.” You pushed the button before setting the cord by your leg.
“It's also probably going to make you a bit drowsy,” she said.
“Sure is,” you slurred, your eyelids already feeling heavy.
“Get some rest, amor.”
“We will be here when you wake up.”
“Love you,” you mumbled as you drifted to sleep.
The last thing you heard was both of them. “We love you, too.”
-----
#buddie x reader#evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader#evan buckley x reader#eddie diaz x reader#911 oneshot#9 1 1 x reader#911 reader insert#hurt/comfort#whumpril2025#head injury
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whumpy hints
some tiny details that tickle the whump senses
• dark circles, bloodshot eyes
• falling asleep fully clothed, possibly with jacket and shoes still on, legs/feet hanging off the foot of the bed or sprawled half-on half-off a couch
• the “oh shit, i’m gonna faint/nevermind i’m good” face (and aborted grab for nearest solid object or person)
• a character losing their footing for a moment on rough terrain. someone reaching out to grab them so they don’t fall and they both hold on for a hot second
• closing their eyes and leaning into a gentle touch
• shaky hands, shaky voice
• falling asleep at their desk at work/tucked away in an odd place
• doing things that are out of character & having others start to notice: losing their cool, being extra chipper or extra quiet, jumpy
• zoning out
• someone getting between them and whoever they’re having a heated exchange with, gently pushing them back with a hand against their chest or shoulder
• slipping out of sight from the others to lean against a wall, tip their head back and close their eyes
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Comfiest Clothes
Eddie x reader
WC: 1700 ish
Meet cute after a car accident.
---
One minute you were driving home from the movies and the next there was a sudden loud crash and squealing tires. Everything hurt. You tried to open your eyes but didn't have the energy.
You didn't know how much time had passed. There was a new insistent pain across your chest. You groaned. “Miss, can you open your eyes for me?” someone asked as you realized the pain was a knuckle rubbing hard across your sternum.
With an exhausting amount of effort you managed to crack your eyes open slightly. You were met with the prettiest brown eyes you'd ever seen and a beautiful but somehow comforting smile. “Hey, my name is Eddie. We are going to get you out of there, okay?”
Before you could respond your eyelids slid shut once more. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't force them back open and the world faded away.
The next thing you were aware of was something squeezing your upper arm uncomfortably followed by intense pain in your leg. “Mmm, ow.”
“Are you with us?” you heard that same voice as earlier, Eddie you thought you remembered. “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Slowly, you managed to do as he'd asked. You blinked, trying to let your eyes adjust to the brightness. Then you locked in those same brown eyes. “Wha–?” you tried to ask, clearing your throat you tried again. “What happened?” you slurred.
“You were in a car accident,” Eddie explained. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Y/N,” you introduced.
He smiled at you before shifting his attention to the IV line in your arm for a moment then looked back at you. “Can you tell me the date?”
You thought for a minute before answering, “June something? It's Tuesday.”
He nodded slowly. “Good enough. We're almost to the hospital, okay?”
“Mmkay,” you tried to nod and suddenly realized you couldn't move your head. You couldn't help the sudden panic that flared to life.
“Okay, I know,” Eddie tried to soothe. “Try to breathe. We have to keep you from moving your neck too much until the doctors can make sure you don't have any spinal injuries.”
You took a deep breath, doing your best to calm down. There was a sudden sharp pain in your leg again. You tried to recoil from the feeling. “Ah, ouch!”
“Sorry, sorry.” Someone else said from near your legs.
It was then that you realized someone was pressing on your lower leg and also that your leg and foot were cold, all of you was cold. “I'm cold,” you verbalized your complaint.
Eddie pulled a blanket higher up your shoulders. “It's because you're in shock.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no.”
“What?” he asked. “Does something else hurt?”
“My footie pants!” you whined. “They’re ruined.”
You could tell he was trying to hold back a laugh. “Yes, they are. Sorry, but we had to cut them off.”
“I know it's dumb,” you pouted. “I love them though and I've never seen them at any stores since I got them.”
He took your hand and squeezed your fingers gently. “It's not dumb to have a favorite comfy outfit. I bet you'll find a new pair.”
The ambulance stopped and seconds later the doors were pulled open. The gurney was rolled out of the back and towards the doors of the hospital. You kept your eyes locked on Eddie as he relayed all the information about the accident and your injuries to the doctors.
In a blur, they had stopped in a room and shifted you from one bed to another which caused you to cry out in pain.
Eddie leaned in to lock eyes with you. “You're in good hands. They'll get you fixed up, okay?”
You tried to nod, forgetting you couldn't move your head. “Okay,” you agreed.
He stepped back before turning to leave the room with the other firefighters that you just noticed in the room. Then it was a flurry of motion as the doctors began to treat your injuries and check for others. Before you could process what was happening, you were being moved to an operating room and then being asked to count backwards before you sank into pain free darkness.
Two Days Later
You had just finished your dry chicken and watery, under-cheesed macaroni and cheese when a knock sounded on your door.
“Come in,” you called expecting the nurse to come check in before shift change.
The door swung open and you locked on the same breathtaking brown eyes you'd been dreaming about for the last two days. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile.
“Eddie, hi,” you greeted awkwardly.
Behind him you noticed a blond man that seemed vaguely familiar. “How's the leg?” he asked. You realized then that he was the firefighter that had been holding pressure on your leg in the ambulance.
“Now capable of setting off the metal detector every time I try to fly from now on,” you chuckled at your joke. “What are you guys doing here?”
Before they could answer, there was another knock before the door swung open again. This time it was the nurse you'd been expecting. “Oh, hi! Sorry to interrupt. I'll be quick.” She moved over beside the bed and started a manual reading on the blood pressure monitor. While it ran she pulled out the thermometer and checked your temperature with the ear probe. Finally, she wrote down the temp, blood pressure, and heart rate from the monitor beside you. “Is there anything I can grab for you?”
“More water and some juice, pretty please?”
She smiled. “Apple or did you want to try the orange again?”
You made a dramatic gagging sound. “Gross, no. The apple please. I'd rather not try drinking hair again.”
You heard both firefighters loitering in your room snort before they tried to cover their laughs. “Sorry,” they each mumbled.
The nurse just raised an eyebrow at them. “Apple juice and a water refill, you got it. I'll be right back.”
Once she exited, you turned your attention to the large men waiting patiently. “So why are you here?” You laughed awkwardly. “I mean, not that I'm not glad to see you. I definitely wanted to thank you but I'm confused why you're here,” you rambled.
Eddie cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. You couldn't help but stare at the way the movement made his bicep flex under his Henley shirt. “I wanted to follow up and see how you were doing,” he explained. “I, uh, I also brought you this.” He set a medium sized bubble mailer on the bed beside you.
“What's this?”
He smiled. “Just open it.”
You lifted it slowly, almost as if something was going to jump out at you. You flipped up the folded edge and looked into the package. You furrowed your brows when you saw the bright purple, fleece fabric. Reaching in, your hand grasped the soft material before pulling it free of the mailer.
“We couldn't find anything with any patterns like yours had. So we picked something bright.” Eddie started to explain.
“No way.” You quickly realized it was a new pair of footie pants. “They’re so soft.” You hugged them lovingly.
“Hopefully they’re a little big. I wasn't sure what size to get but I figured baggier is better for comfy clothes.”
“I love them. Thank you so much!” you gushed. “And purple is my favorite color. They’re perfect. You so didn't need to do this. Where did you find them?”
Eddie’s responding smile was gorgeous and you wanted nothing more than to see more of it. “Buck here,” he gestured to the blond beside him, “suggested looking online. Amazon has pretty much everything.”
You laughed. “Why did I never think of that? I want to try them on but I won't be doing that for the next eight to ten weeks.” You gestured to your splinted and bandaged leg.
“I bet you'll be back on your feet sooner than you think. This hospital has the best orthopedic surgeons,” Buck said as he gestured toward his left leg. “Good as new after being crushed under a fire truck.”
“Oof. Guess I should be glad mine was,” you lifted your hands to air quote, “a mostly clean break. Except for the bone poking out of my leg and nicking an artery part.”
“I knew that,” Buck pointed out.
“Right. Of course you would. Thanks for not letting me bleed to death.”
“Just doing my job,” he shrugged off the gratitude.
“So, how are you besides the leg?” Eddie asked.
“Uh, concussion, bruised ribs, and they did surgery to fix my liver,” you listed. “Could have been a lot worse… or so I'm told. Hopefully, they’re going to let me go home in the next couple days.”
They both nodded with an understanding.
“Yeah, you got lucky,” Eddie said.
You shifted on the bed trying to get more comfortable as exhaustion hit you suddenly. A yawn caught you off guard and made you wince as the deep breath sent pain through your ribs. “Sorry to cut this short, but I think I'm going to fall asleep.”
“We'll get out of your hair,” Eddie offered. “Uh, do you think you would maybe want to get dinner or coffee once you're feeling a little better?”
You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. That would be fun.” You looked around trying to remember where your phone was hiding. “I don't know where my phone is. Maybe write your number down on the napkin?”
“What's your number? I can add it to mine and text you.”
You rambled it off as your eyes started to drift closed. A moment later you heard your phone vibrating from the chair across the room where all your belongings sat.
Eddie took your hand and squeezed your fingers quickly. “I'll talk to you later. Get some rest, sweetheart.”
“Thanks for the pants,” you mumbled as you fell into a content nap.
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I don't think this landed in the pairing tag... so I'm reblogging so maybe it will. 👀🤞🏻
A Ghost in the Windy City
Dean x reader
WC: 3000 ish
This is a crossover fic... it's canon SPN on a hunt fic and Chicago Med. That said if you're reading just for Will and Connor you will probably be disappointed. I don't even use their first names. If you're a SPN fan and have never watched Chicago Med... you can still read this as randomly named doctors and you won't miss anything.
ENJOY! 💜
--
You stand next to the grave and watch as Sam and Dean continue to dig. You've been switching off for over an hour as you work to unearth the body of the ghost that's been terrorizing an assisted living facility.
You shake your head trying to clear the fog of exhaustion. Being awake for nearly twenty-four hours at a time never really gets easier. Silently, you count the feet left to dig before you can burn the body and go collapse in the shitty hotel bed.
Soon enough, they finally reach the casket and Dean smashes the top of it.
The moment he does, you sail through the air and into a large headstone. The impact knocks the air from your lungs and you struggle to catch your breath. Before you can recover, the ghost is in front of you.
“Y/N!” Sam shouts. You see him lift the salt gun from the corner of your eye.
You turn as best you can and then hear the shotgun go off. The ghost disintegrates and Sam appears to help you up. When you reach for his hand, it vanishes as Sam is flung across the cemetery into an open field.
The ghost appears in front of you once more. It reaches its hand into your chest and it immediately feels like your entire rib cage is being crushed. You try to call out to Dean but you can't manage to form words.
Suddenly, the ghost stumbles back half a step before bursting into flame and vanishing.
You collapse trying once again to catch your breath as pain settles over your entire body. Coughing and gasping, you suck in air while the pain in your chest intensifies. An uncomfortable flip-flopping sensation happens several times in your chest, it takes you a moment to realize it's your heart skipping and thudding after whatever the ghost had done.
Dean is beside you a moment later, his eyes searching for obvious injuries. “What hurts?”
You gesture vaguely towards your side as you try to get words out. You carefully draw a slower breath in through your nose and hold it for a second before blowing it out. “My ribs.”
Dean reaches for the hem of your shirt. Carefully, he pulls it up to assess the damage. He hisses as he sees the bruise already starting to form. “Shit. This is gonna hurt for a couple days.” He quickly runs his fingers over the ribs under the bruising causing you to cry out.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
Sam kneels beside Dean then. “How bad?”
“Bruised ribs might have some fractures but nothing is out of place. It's gonna suck for a few days.”
“Fuck,” you hiss out. “Definitely sucks.”
After a few minutes of lying on the ground, you decide you're ready to move. “Help me up.”
“I can carry you,” Dean offers.
“No. Thanks, but no way.” You shake your head. “My legs don't hurt. Carrying me will for sure.”
With one of them on each side of you, they effortlessly lifted you to standing. Dean kept a hold of you to steady yourself from the shift in position.
Twenty very painful minutes later, Dean helped you to sit on the motel bed. Sam disappeared into the bathroom to shower and give you privacy. Dean quickly pulled off your boots and then helped you into a clean flannel so you wouldn't have to raise your arms. Next he shifted you to lay back on the bed and carefully yanked off your pants without too much jostling before helping you into your favorite pair of his sweatpants.
“I'll grab you some advil and water,” Dean offered. “Anything else? Ice pack?”
“Yes, please.” You fidgeted trying to find any comfortable position.
Dean retrieved the meds and ice pack from the first aid kit. He popped the pouch to activate the pack. He shook it roughly before setting it against your ribs.
After you'd taken the advil, Sam came out of the bathroom. Dean leaned down to kiss your forehead with a promise that he'd be right back. He disappeared into the bathroom and the shower turned on a moment later.
“Hey, Shortie,” Sam greeted. “Need anything?”
“Yeah, sleep. But I can't get comfortable,” you complained. “Why didn't you get flung into a headstone? Lucky.”
He scoffed. “Yeah. This time, maybe.”
“Fine. Guess it was my turn.” You shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. Pain shot through your chest and dizziness flared up suddenly. “This sucks.”
Dean exited the bathroom and laid down in the bed beside you. “How're you doing?”
“About the same.” Turning your head to look at him, you asked, “Can you just knock me out real quick so I can sleep?”
He scowled at you. “That's not funny.”
“Who said I was kidding?” You pouted.
“Alright, c’mere.” He shifted so that he could carefully roll you to your uninjured side then settled you so you could use him as a body pillow. Dizziness and nausea swirled as you tried to get comfortable. “Better?”
You took a deep breath. “Hmm, five percent.”
“That's something. I'll take it.” He kissed the top of your head. “Just try to sleep.”
You spent the next hour trying to fall asleep. Despite your best efforts, sleep wouldn't come. The nausea and dizziness kept getting worse and the pain in your chest kept getting worse. When the pain started to radiate down your arm, you couldn't take it anymore. “Dean?”
He startled awake. “What?” He wiped at his face. “What's wrong?”
“We need to go to the hospital. I really don't feel good.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks.
“I don't know. I don't feel right,” you try to explain. “I'm dizzy and nauseous and the pain is getting worse. My gut is telling me I need a hospital.”
He sits up and looks down at you. “Okay. Let's go.” He shifts and pushes himself to standing then reaches over to shake his brother. “Sammy. Wake up.”
“What?” Sam grumbles.
“Get up. We're taking Y/N to the hospital.” Dean explains as he changes into his jeans and pulls on his boots.
Sam is up and changing a second later. “What happened?”
“Pain is worse. She wants to go.” Dean says.
“I'll pull the car closer,” Sam offers and disappears out the door.
Dean offers you a hand to help you up. You can't contain the cry of pain when he pulls you to sit. “I know, I'm sorry. Just a few more steps to the car.”
“Give me a second,” you ask. Taking a couple deep breaths, you steel yourself and prepare to stand.
“Ready?” Dean asks.
You nod and he gently, but swiftly, pulls you to your feet. You sway under the sudden lightheadedness and Dean helps keep you steady. One step toward the door and you nearly collapse, causing Dean to scoop you into his arms. You only manage a whimper from the pain as you fight to stay awake.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. Stay with me, okay?”
He quickly has you both settled into the backseat of Baby and Sam takes off towards the nearest hospital.
You watch Dean as his eyes continuously slide between you and the road. His jaw is tense and you can see the muscles twitch as he clenches his teeth.
“Stop that,” you poke him in the cheek.
He looks back at you again. “Stop what?”
“Blaming yourself. You couldn't have stopped the ghost–”
He cut you off. “Maybe not, but we should have taken you to get checked out instead of going back to the motel.”
You huffed out a laugh before wincing in pain. “No, you shouldn't have. We had no reason to think it was more than a bruised rib.”
He sighed and shook his head. You knew he didn't agree but resigned yourself to bring it up again later.
Moments later, Sam pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He hopped out of the car and hollered, “Can we get some help over here?”
You watched as someone hurried back into the hospital and another made his way towards the car. Dean had pushed to back door open and as soon as he climbed out a red headed doctor was squatting beside the opening. “What happened?”
“Umm…” you tried to think of something believable to tell him but you couldn't seem to think straight.
“Someone tried to mug her,” Dean offered for you. “Only managed to push her into a dumpster before we scared him off. We thought it was just a bruise but now she's in a lot of pain.”
The doctor nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you family?”
Before Dean could answer, a nurse pushed a wheelchair over.
“She's my fiance.” Dean said.
The doctor returned his attention to you. “Where is the pain?”
“My left side. It started at my ribs but now it's kind of wrapping around my whole side and to my shoulder,” you explained.
As they helped slide you into the wheelchair, the dizziness intensified once more and black spots danced across your vision. Wincing, you take a couple deep breaths and force your vision to clear,
The doctor looked at Dean and asked, “When did this happen?”
Glancing at his watch, he answered, “About two and a half hours ago.”
The nurse pushed you into the waiting area and then straight through to the emergency room.
“Maggie, trauma one is open, right?” the doctor asked.
“All yours, Halstead” someone shouted across the open space.
“Mags, page Dr. Rhodes,” the doctor you assumed was Halstead requested.
Another doctor in black scrubs rounded a corner from the other end of the hallway. “I'm right here.”
“We need you guys to wait out there,” the nurse pointed to the hallway as she guided Sam and Dean away from you.
What felt like only seconds later, you were laying on the hospital bed, your shirt had been cut off and replaced with a scratchy gown. The nurse was placing stickers across your chest and there was a pinch in your arm before a tube was screwed into the port and a bag fluid was passed over you. Someone else was wrapping a cuff around your arm and the flurry of motion all around you was making your already dizzy head spin.
“BP is 100/56, heart rate 131,” someone to your right announced.
You felt yourself starting to panic as the new doctor leaned over and locked eyes with you. “I'm Dr. Rhodes and this is Dr. Halstead. Can you tell me your name?”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated. “We're going to see what we can do to get you feeling better, okay?”
“Guarding in the left upper quadrant,” Dr Halstead stated. “Let's get chest and abdominal x-rays and give me the ultrasound.”
They were quiet for a moment as you felt something press into the sore spot by your ribs.
“FAST is positive. That's a lot of free fluid,” Dr. Rhodes said.
The cuff around your arm inflated again. When it deflated an alarm sounded from the monitor beside you.
“Pressure is dropping,” Halstead stated. “We have to get her to surgery, now.”
Rhodes shook his head. “I don't want to move her upstairs. I'll do it in the hybrid OR.” He looked down at you once more. “You're bleeding into your abdomen and we need to take you to surgery to stop the bleeding, okay?”
“Where's Dean?”
“That your fiance?” Dr. Halstead asked. You nodded. “He's right out in the hallway. You'll see him in a minute when we move you to a different room.” He looked over towards the nurse. “April, grab me a central line kit, please.”
“I'll go update them and then scrub. I'll see you in a minute, sweetie.” Dr. Rhodes squeezed your fingers gently before leaving the room.
“I'm just going to place another IV line here by your collar bone.” He draped a blue cloth over your shoulder and ran something wet over your skin. “You're going to feel a quick pinch and then some burning when I numb it then you won't feel anything else, okay?”
You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself. “‘Kay.”
“All set,” he announced a minute later. “Let's go get you fixed up.”
You didn't bother to open your eyes but grunted your agreement as the bed started to move.
“Sweetheart?” Dean asked. “Did she pass out?” He squeezed your hand and pushed your loose hair off your forehead.
“No,” Dr. Halstead answered at the same time you muttered. “I'm so tired.”
Dean leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “They'll fix you up. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Yeah, we will see you soon, Shortie,” Sam added as the bed moved again.
There was a flurry of activity around you again as they prepped you for surgery. Moments later, someone asked you to count backwards from ten and you barely muttered nine before darkness pulled you in.
Sam and Dean were led up to the surgical waiting area. Sam dozed off with his head propped haphazardly on his fist while Dean lost himself in thought.
A few hours later, Dr. Rhodes stepped off the elevator and Dean immediately stood, punching Sam in the shoulder as he did.
“Is she okay?” Dean asked, taking the doctor's hand in a firm shake.
“She's stable. She had an injury to her spleen and she lost a lot of blood. We had to remove it to stop the bleeding. They are moving her to the ICU right now. I'm optimistic she should make a full recovery.”
Dean sighed in relief. “So is that like losing an appendix? You don't need a spleen, right?”
Dr. Rhodes chuckled. “Not quite the same. Yes, you can live without a spleen. She will be more prone to infections, especially pneumonia. But otherwise she’ll be able to live a normal life.”
Dean snorted and Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Their lives had never been normal.
“Can we see her?” Sam asked.
“Of course,” Dr. Rhodes started. “Like I said, they’re getting her set up in the ICU for tonight. As soon as she is settled a nurse will come get you. She will likely be asleep for several more hours but you're welcome to sit with her.”
Dean offered the doctor another handshake and Sam followed suit. “Thanks, again, doc.”
Eight Hours Later
You groaned as you started to wake and everything hurt. You huffed out a breath through your nose. “Ow.”
“Y/N,” Dean breathed out your name in relief. He squeezed your hand softly and ran his other over the top of your head. “Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?”
Slowly, you managed to open your eyes then immediately squint them mostly closed against the bright light from the window. “Hi,” you greeted as your eyes locked on his.
His smile lit up his whole face. “Hey, how're you feeling?”
“Sore.”
Chair legs scraped across the floor from your other side. “I'll go let the nurse know you're awake,” Sam announced as he stood.
“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said. “You scared me this time. That was too close.”
“You've been closer,” you tried to joke away his concern.
He sighed. “You haven't. And I would rather not change that ever. Got it?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” you sassed. You tried to lift your arm to salute him with your comment but winced when pain flared through your ribs. “Shit, ouch.” You tried to breathe through the pain.
“We will get you more painkillers when the doc gets in here,” Dean offered in an attempt to comfort you.
Sam came back in and reclaimed the chair he had been sitting in. “The nurse was paging the doctors. She said they'll be here in a few minutes.”
“Y/N, good to see you're awake,” Dr. Halstead greets as he and Dr. Rhodes entered.
You grunt an acknowledgment as they make their way to the side of your bed.
Dr. Rhodes shifts the blanket and gown out of the way before carefully peeling back the bandage on your side. He thoroughly examines the incision before replacing the bandage. “Everything looks good. How're you feeling?”
“Like I got thrown into a head stone.” You couldn't help but chuckle at the confused looks on their faces the wince as the pain in your ribs got worse.
Dean cleared his throat. “She's got a, uh, morbid sense of humor.” He shoots you a look, clearly begging you to stop talking.
You can't stop the laugh that bursts out at Dean’s concern but you stop just as quickly when the pain is immediately unbearable. “Shit, ow, ow, ow.”
“We will get you some more pain killers,” Dr. Halstead offered before leaving the room.
While he was gone, Dr. Rhodes explained that your surgery had gone well and they he had needed to remove your spleen. He went over how that would affect you going forward. He also told you that had two ribs with hairline fractures and substantial bruising. “You also have a minor cardiac contusion, a small bruise on your heart. Which I honestly don't know how that could have happened from hitting your side the way you did. Did you get hit or punched in the chest as well?”
You glanced at Dean trying to gauge his reaction. “Um, maybe? Honestly it happened so fast before these guys stopped him. I think I was in shock or something I don't really remember for sure.”
Dr. Rhodes simply nodded, maybe agreeing tht made sense. “In any case, we will want to monitor you closely for a couple days to be sure that won't cause further complications.”
Dr. Halstead came back with a syringe that he screwed into the open port on the IV line in your arm. Then a wave of warmth swept over you as all your aches and pains dulled. “You should be feeling better pretty quick.”
“So much better,” you agreed. “When can I go home? No offense but your bed sucks.”
All four men chuckled.
“Sorry about that,” Dr. Halstead said.
“I'd say you'll be with us at least two more nights,” Dr. Rhodes explains. “If nothing changes in the next few hours we can get you moved out of the ICU and into a regular room.”
“Ugh,” you groaned. “Have I mentioned this sucks?”
“Only about five times,” Sam teases.
“Shut it, Gigantor.” You flipped him off. "I think nearly bleeding to death entitles me to a little whining."
"Not funny," Dean scolded, squeezing your hand as if he was afraid to let you go. “You've spent more nights on a crappier bed. At least this time you got the good drugs.”
You giggled. “You make a good point.”
“Already loopy. Perfect,” Dean couldn't help but join your giggles.
“Anything else we can get for you right now?” Dr. Halstead asked.
“Food?” you asked. “I'm starving.”
“Of course,” Dr. Halstead handed you a trifold menu and explained that you could order from the number listed. “They’re pretty quick to get the food up here.”
“Thank you both. For everything.”
Dean nodded his agreement before offering hand shakes to both doctors. “Yeah. Thank you.”
Once they left, you had Dean order you some eggs, bacon, and pudding but before it even arrived you had fallen into a pain medication induced slumber.
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Supernatural Masterlist
Dean
A Ghost in the Windy City
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A Ghost in the Windy City
Dean x reader
WC: 3000 ish
This is a crossover fic... it's canon SPN on a hunt fic and Chicago Med. That said if you're reading just for Will and Connor you will probably be disappointed. I don't even use their first names. If you're a SPN fan and have never watched Chicago Med... you can still read this as randomly named doctors and you won't miss anything.
ENJOY! 💜
--
You stand next to the grave and watch as Sam and Dean continue to dig. You've been switching off for over an hour as you work to unearth the body of the ghost that's been terrorizing an assisted living facility.
You shake your head trying to clear the fog of exhaustion. Being awake for nearly twenty-four hours at a time never really gets easier. Silently, you count the feet left to dig before you can burn the body and go collapse in the shitty hotel bed.
Soon enough, they finally reach the casket and Dean smashes the top of it.
The moment he does, you sail through the air and into a large headstone. The impact knocks the air from your lungs and you struggle to catch your breath. Before you can recover, the ghost is in front of you.
“Y/N!” Sam shouts. You see him lift the salt gun from the corner of your eye.
You turn as best you can and then hear the shotgun go off. The ghost disintegrates and Sam appears to help you up. When you reach for his hand, it vanishes as Sam is flung across the cemetery into an open field.
The ghost appears in front of you once more. It reaches its hand into your chest and it immediately feels like your entire rib cage is being crushed. You try to call out to Dean but you can't manage to form words.
Suddenly, the ghost stumbles back half a step before bursting into flame and vanishing.
You collapse trying once again to catch your breath as pain settles over your entire body. Coughing and gasping, you suck in air while the pain in your chest intensifies. An uncomfortable flip-flopping sensation happens several times in your chest, it takes you a moment to realize it's your heart skipping and thudding after whatever the ghost had done.
Dean is beside you a moment later, his eyes searching for obvious injuries. “What hurts?”
You gesture vaguely towards your side as you try to get words out. You carefully draw a slower breath in through your nose and hold it for a second before blowing it out. “My ribs.”
Dean reaches for the hem of your shirt. Carefully, he pulls it up to assess the damage. He hisses as he sees the bruise already starting to form. “Shit. This is gonna hurt for a couple days.” He quickly runs his fingers over the ribs under the bruising causing you to cry out.
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
Sam kneels beside Dean then. “How bad?”
“Bruised ribs might have some fractures but nothing is out of place. It's gonna suck for a few days.”
“Fuck,” you hiss out. “Definitely sucks.”
After a few minutes of lying on the ground, you decide you're ready to move. “Help me up.”
“I can carry you,” Dean offers.
“No. Thanks, but no way.” You shake your head. “My legs don't hurt. Carrying me will for sure.”
With one of them on each side of you, they effortlessly lifted you to standing. Dean kept a hold of you to steady yourself from the shift in position.
Twenty very painful minutes later, Dean helped you to sit on the motel bed. Sam disappeared into the bathroom to shower and give you privacy. Dean quickly pulled off your boots and then helped you into a clean flannel so you wouldn't have to raise your arms. Next he shifted you to lay back on the bed and carefully yanked off your pants without too much jostling before helping you into your favorite pair of his sweatpants.
“I'll grab you some advil and water,” Dean offered. “Anything else? Ice pack?”
“Yes, please.” You fidgeted trying to find any comfortable position.
Dean retrieved the meds and ice pack from the first aid kit. He popped the pouch to activate the pack. He shook it roughly before setting it against your ribs.
After you'd taken the advil, Sam came out of the bathroom. Dean leaned down to kiss your forehead with a promise that he'd be right back. He disappeared into the bathroom and the shower turned on a moment later.
“Hey, Shortie,” Sam greeted. “Need anything?”
“Yeah, sleep. But I can't get comfortable,” you complained. “Why didn't you get flung into a headstone? Lucky.”
He scoffed. “Yeah. This time, maybe.”
“Fine. Guess it was my turn.” You shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. Pain shot through your chest and dizziness flared up suddenly. “This sucks.”
Dean exited the bathroom and laid down in the bed beside you. “How're you doing?”
“About the same.” Turning your head to look at him, you asked, “Can you just knock me out real quick so I can sleep?”
He scowled at you. “That's not funny.”
“Who said I was kidding?” You pouted.
“Alright, c’mere.” He shifted so that he could carefully roll you to your uninjured side then settled you so you could use him as a body pillow. Dizziness and nausea swirled as you tried to get comfortable. “Better?”
You took a deep breath. “Hmm, five percent.”
“That's something. I'll take it.” He kissed the top of your head. “Just try to sleep.”
You spent the next hour trying to fall asleep. Despite your best efforts, sleep wouldn't come. The nausea and dizziness kept getting worse and the pain in your chest kept getting worse. When the pain started to radiate down your arm, you couldn't take it anymore. “Dean?”
He startled awake. “What?” He wiped at his face. “What's wrong?”
“We need to go to the hospital. I really don't feel good.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks.
“I don't know. I don't feel right,” you try to explain. “I'm dizzy and nauseous and the pain is getting worse. My gut is telling me I need a hospital.”
He sits up and looks down at you. “Okay. Let's go.” He shifts and pushes himself to standing then reaches over to shake his brother. “Sammy. Wake up.”
“What?” Sam grumbles.
“Get up. We're taking Y/N to the hospital.” Dean explains as he changes into his jeans and pulls on his boots.
Sam is up and changing a second later. “What happened?”
“Pain is worse. She wants to go.” Dean says.
“I'll pull the car closer,” Sam offers and disappears out the door.
Dean offers you a hand to help you up. You can't contain the cry of pain when he pulls you to sit. “I know, I'm sorry. Just a few more steps to the car.”
“Give me a second,” you ask. Taking a couple deep breaths, you steel yourself and prepare to stand.
“Ready?” Dean asks.
You nod and he gently, but swiftly, pulls you to your feet. You sway under the sudden lightheadedness and Dean helps keep you steady. One step toward the door and you nearly collapse, causing Dean to scoop you into his arms. You only manage a whimper from the pain as you fight to stay awake.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. Stay with me, okay?”
He quickly has you both settled into the backseat of Baby and Sam takes off towards the nearest hospital.
You watch Dean as his eyes continuously slide between you and the road. His jaw is tense and you can see the muscles twitch as he clenches his teeth.
“Stop that,” you poke him in the cheek.
He looks back at you again. “Stop what?”
“Blaming yourself. You couldn't have stopped the ghost–”
He cut you off. “Maybe not, but we should have taken you to get checked out instead of going back to the motel.”
You huffed out a laugh before wincing in pain. “No, you shouldn't have. We had no reason to think it was more than a bruised rib.”
He sighed and shook his head. You knew he didn't agree but resigned yourself to bring it up again later.
Moments later, Sam pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He hopped out of the car and hollered, “Can we get some help over here?”
You watched as someone hurried back into the hospital and another made his way towards the car. Dean had pushed to back door open and as soon as he climbed out a red headed doctor was squatting beside the opening. “What happened?”
“Umm…” you tried to think of something believable to tell him but you couldn't seem to think straight.
“Someone tried to mug her,” Dean offered for you. “Only managed to push her into a dumpster before we scared him off. We thought it was just a bruise but now she's in a lot of pain.”
The doctor nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you family?”
Before Dean could answer, a nurse pushed a wheelchair over.
“She's my fiance.” Dean said.
The doctor returned his attention to you. “Where is the pain?”
“My left side. It started at my ribs but now it's kind of wrapping around my whole side and to my shoulder,” you explained.
As they helped slide you into the wheelchair, the dizziness intensified once more and black spots danced across your vision. Wincing, you take a couple deep breaths and force your vision to clear,
The doctor looked at Dean and asked, “When did this happen?”
Glancing at his watch, he answered, “About two and a half hours ago.”
The nurse pushed you into the waiting area and then straight through to the emergency room.
“Maggie, trauma one is open, right?” the doctor asked.
“All yours, Halstead” someone shouted across the open space.
“Mags, page Dr. Rhodes,” the doctor you assumed was Halstead requested.
Another doctor in black scrubs rounded a corner from the other end of the hallway. “I'm right here.”
“We need you guys to wait out there,” the nurse pointed to the hallway as she guided Sam and Dean away from you.
What felt like only seconds later, you were laying on the hospital bed, your shirt had been cut off and replaced with a scratchy gown. The nurse was placing stickers across your chest and there was a pinch in your arm before a tube was screwed into the port and a bag fluid was passed over you. Someone else was wrapping a cuff around your arm and the flurry of motion all around you was making your already dizzy head spin.
“BP is 100/56, heart rate 131,” someone to your right announced.
You felt yourself starting to panic as the new doctor leaned over and locked eyes with you. “I'm Dr. Rhodes and this is Dr. Halstead. Can you tell me your name?”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated. “We're going to see what we can do to get you feeling better, okay?”
“Guarding in the left upper quadrant,” Dr Halstead stated. “Let's get chest and abdominal x-rays and give me the ultrasound.”
They were quiet for a moment as you felt something press into the sore spot by your ribs.
“FAST is positive. That's a lot of free fluid,” Dr. Rhodes said.
The cuff around your arm inflated again. When it deflated an alarm sounded from the monitor beside you.
“Pressure is dropping,” Halstead stated. “We have to get her to surgery, now.”
Rhodes shook his head. “I don't want to move her upstairs. I'll do it in the hybrid OR.” He looked down at you once more. “You're bleeding into your abdomen and we need to take you to surgery to stop the bleeding, okay?”
“Where's Dean?”
“That your fiance?” Dr. Halstead asked. You nodded. “He's right out in the hallway. You'll see him in a minute when we move you to a different room.” He looked over towards the nurse. “April, grab me a central line kit, please.”
“I'll go update them and then scrub. I'll see you in a minute, sweetie.” Dr. Rhodes squeezed your fingers gently before leaving the room.
“I'm just going to place another IV line here by your collar bone.” He draped a blue cloth over your shoulder and ran something wet over your skin. “You're going to feel a quick pinch and then some burning when I numb it then you won't feel anything else, okay?”
You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself. “‘Kay.”
“All set,” he announced a minute later. “Let's go get you fixed up.”
You didn't bother to open your eyes but grunted your agreement as the bed started to move.
“Sweetheart?” Dean asked. “Did she pass out?” He squeezed your hand and pushed your loose hair off your forehead.
“No,” Dr. Halstead answered at the same time you muttered. “I'm so tired.”
Dean leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “They'll fix you up. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Yeah, we will see you soon, Shortie,” Sam added as the bed moved again.
There was a flurry of activity around you again as they prepped you for surgery. Moments later, someone asked you to count backwards from ten and you barely muttered nine before darkness pulled you in.
Sam and Dean were led up to the surgical waiting area. Sam dozed off with his head propped haphazardly on his fist while Dean lost himself in thought.
A few hours later, Dr. Rhodes stepped off the elevator and Dean immediately stood, punching Sam in the shoulder as he did.
“Is she okay?” Dean asked, taking the doctor's hand in a firm shake.
“She's stable. She had an injury to her spleen and she lost a lot of blood. We had to remove it to stop the bleeding. They are moving her to the ICU right now. I'm optimistic she should make a full recovery.”
Dean sighed in relief. “So is that like losing an appendix? You don't need a spleen, right?”
Dr. Rhodes chuckled. “Not quite the same. Yes, you can live without a spleen. She will be more prone to infections, especially pneumonia. But otherwise she’ll be able to live a normal life.”
Dean snorted and Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Their lives had never been normal.
“Can we see her?” Sam asked.
“Of course,” Dr. Rhodes started. “Like I said, they’re getting her set up in the ICU for tonight. As soon as she is settled a nurse will come get you. She will likely be asleep for several more hours but you're welcome to sit with her.”
Dean offered the doctor another handshake and Sam followed suit. “Thanks, again, doc.”
Eight Hours Later
You groaned as you started to wake and everything hurt. You huffed out a breath through your nose. “Ow.”
“Y/N,” Dean breathed out your name in relief. He squeezed your hand softly and ran his other over the top of your head. “Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?”
Slowly, you managed to open your eyes then immediately squint them mostly closed against the bright light from the window. “Hi,” you greeted as your eyes locked on his.
His smile lit up his whole face. “Hey, how're you feeling?”
“Sore.”
Chair legs scraped across the floor from your other side. “I'll go let the nurse know you're awake,” Sam announced as he stood.
“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said. “You scared me this time. That was too close.”
“You've been closer,” you tried to joke away his concern.
He sighed. “You haven't. And I would rather not change that ever. Got it?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” you sassed. You tried to lift your arm to salute him with your comment but winced when pain flared through your ribs. “Shit, ouch.” You tried to breathe through the pain.
“We will get you more painkillers when the doc gets in here,” Dean offered in an attempt to comfort you.
Sam came back in and reclaimed the chair he had been sitting in. “The nurse was paging the doctors. She said they'll be here in a few minutes.”
“Y/N, good to see you're awake,” Dr. Halstead greets as he and Dr. Rhodes entered.
You grunt an acknowledgment as they make their way to the side of your bed.
Dr. Rhodes shifts the blanket and gown out of the way before carefully peeling back the bandage on your side. He thoroughly examines the incision before replacing the bandage. “Everything looks good. How're you feeling?”
“Like I got thrown into a head stone.” You couldn't help but chuckle at the confused looks on their faces the wince as the pain in your ribs got worse.
Dean cleared his throat. “She's got a, uh, morbid sense of humor.” He shoots you a look, clearly begging you to stop talking.
You can't stop the laugh that bursts out at Dean’s concern but you stop just as quickly when the pain is immediately unbearable. “Shit, ow, ow, ow.”
“We will get you some more pain killers,” Dr. Halstead offered before leaving the room.
While he was gone, Dr. Rhodes explained that your surgery had gone well and they he had needed to remove your spleen. He went over how that would affect you going forward. He also told you that had two ribs with hairline fractures and substantial bruising. “You also have a minor cardiac contusion, a small bruise on your heart. Which I honestly don't know how that could have happened from hitting your side the way you did. Did you get hit or punched in the chest as well?”
You glanced at Dean trying to gauge his reaction. “Um, maybe? Honestly it happened so fast before these guys stopped him. I think I was in shock or something I don't really remember for sure.”
Dr. Rhodes simply nodded, maybe agreeing tht made sense. “In any case, we will want to monitor you closely for a couple days to be sure that won't cause further complications.”
Dr. Halstead came back with a syringe that he screwed into the open port on the IV line in your arm. Then a wave of warmth swept over you as all your aches and pains dulled. “You should be feeling better pretty quick.”
“So much better,” you agreed. “When can I go home? No offense but your bed sucks.”
All four men chuckled.
“Sorry about that,” Dr. Halstead said.
“I'd say you'll be with us at least two more nights,” Dr. Rhodes explains. “If nothing changes in the next few hours we can get you moved out of the ICU and into a regular room.”
“Ugh,” you groaned. “Have I mentioned this sucks?”
“Only about five times,” Sam teases.
“Shut it, Gigantor.” You flipped him off. "I think nearly bleeding to death entitles me to a little whining."
"Not funny," Dean scolded, squeezing your hand as if he was afraid to let you go. “You've spent more nights on a crappier bed. At least this time you got the good drugs.”
You giggled. “You make a good point.”
“Already loopy. Perfect,” Dean couldn't help but join your giggles.
“Anything else we can get for you right now?” Dr. Halstead asked.
“Food?” you asked. “I'm starving.”
“Of course,” Dr. Halstead handed you a trifold menu and explained that you could order from the number listed. “They’re pretty quick to get the food up here.”
“Thank you both. For everything.”
Dean nodded his agreement before offering hand shakes to both doctors. “Yeah. Thank you.”
Once they left, you had Dean order you some eggs, bacon, and pudding but before it even arrived you had fallen into a pain medication induced slumber.
#dean winchester x reader#spn fanfic#dean x reader#one chicago fic#chicago med fanfiction#will halstead#connor rhodes#supernatural fanfiction
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To my Tim Bradford ask from maybe a few hours ago, can Tim get in the house to his wife just to realize that he has to deliver the baby.
Thank you so much for the request. But I am not comfortable writing pregnancy nor the darker themes you requested. I'm sorry. If you'd like to request something else, let me know! 💚
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Pizza Party
Kelly x reader
WC: 1200 or so
A day late for @hurtcember day 14 Near Death
--
Movement on the apron caught Joe’s attention. He looked over to spot two legs and a mountain of pizza boxes.
“Someone order lunch?” said a feminine voice from behind the tower of cardboard.
Kelly looked up just in time for her to poke her head out to the side of her stack. “Hey, you! I didn't know you were coming by today.” He stood and took half the stack to hand off to Joe before taking the rest himself.
After leaning in for a quick kiss, she explained. “I was bored. Figured I'd bring some lunch.”
Capp chimed in from his spot at the squad table. “How many people are you planning to feed?”
Y/N laughed. “Too much pizza is always best. Who doesn't love leftovers?”
They headed inside and toward the kitchen. “Lunch!” she announced loudly. “I've got deep dish, thin crust, meat lovers, veggie lovers, pineapple, and one extra cheese.”
There were cheers and chair legs scraping across the floor as everyone quickly lined up to get the pizza.
Mouch scoffed. “Who eats plain cheese?”
Kelly laughed as he wrapped his now free arm around Y/N. “She does. The pineapple one is also for her.”
“I'm with her on that one.” Mills chimed in, “Pineapple on pizza is good.”
“Yes! Thank you!” She lifted her hand for him to high five. “But don't eat it all. It's my dinner for later, too.”
As everyone started to settle at the table with their food, Sylvie entered. “Hey! Severide didn't tell us you were coming today.” She pulled Y/N into a firm hug.
“He didn't know. I decided to surprise everyone,” she explained, squeezing Sylvie tight.
They both made a plate and sat down at the table with everyone. She picked the spot next to Kelly and he leaned over and kissed her.
“Thanks for coming. Love you.”
“I love you, too.” Y/N smiled at him.
An hour later, as Y/N began to combine pizzas into fewer boxes, she wobbled as she was overcome with light headedness. She grasped the counter to steady herself.
Nearly instantly, Kelly was at her side. “You alright?”
She nodded. “I think so. Just got a little woozy.”
Kelly wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “How about we go sit down for a minute.”
She took a step toward the couch then collapsed. Kelly caught her in time to prevent her from hitting the ground. “Whoa, hey, Y/N!”
Mills was beside him a moment later. “Lay her down.”
Once Kelly had laid her gently on the floor, Peter leaned down to check her breathing then pressed his fingers to her neck to check her pulse. “No pulse. Brett!”
Sylvie was already running toward the ambulance for the jump bag and monitor.
“No, no, no. You stay with me, Y/N.” Kelly pleaded, taking her hand in his. “You hear me?” He watched in horror as Peter started chest compressions.
Sylvie was back quickly and kneeling beside Kelly. “I need you to back up so we can work.”
Matt bent down and grabbed Kelly’s shoulder to pull him away. “They've got her.”
“What the hell even just happened?” Kelly wiped tears off his face. “She was just fine and then–” He couldn't even finish his sentence.
Sylvie had hooked her up to the monitor and defibrillator pads while Peter continued compressions. “Stop compressions.”
“Still no pulse,” Peter announced.
“She's in v-fib,” said Sylvie. She pressed a button to charge the defibrillator. “Clear.”
When she pressed the button to discharge the shock, Y/N arched off the ground and Kelly squatted like he could manage to stay standing any longer.
Peter watched the monitor. “Still in v-fib.” He resumed compressions. “Let's try again.”
Sylvie nodded. “Charging to 360. Clear.”
Peter raised his hands as Sylvie discharged another shock.
The monitor beeped. Slowly at first then quicker and the entire room breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sinus rhythm,” Sylvie pointed out.
Peter nodded. “Pulse is strong. Let's get her to Med.”
As they lifted her to the stretcher, she groaned. Kelly ran a hand softly over her head. “Can you open your eyes, sweetheart?”
She whimpered. “Ow.”
“What hurts?” Sylvie asked.
She slowly opened her eyes. Looking around she frowned, “What happened?”
Kelly brushed hair back from her face. “You collapsed. Mills and Brett are going to take you to the hospital.”
“Why does my chest hurt?”
They all headed towards the ambulance as Kelly explained. “Uh, your heart stopped. They had to do CPR.”
“What?” She gaped at him.
“It's going to be okay,” Kelly tried to soothe. “The doctors will figure out what happened. Just try to relax.”
They quickly loaded her into the ambulance and Peter headed to the front to drive. Kelly held her hand tightly, like he was afraid to let go.
Sylvie was sitting beside Kelly. She started an IV and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. Finally, she placed a nasal cannula in her nose for oxygen.
Y/N took a deep breath trying to calm herself and winced.
“What's the matter?” Kelly asked.
“It hurts to breathe.” She whimpered. “Kel, I'm scared.”
“I know. You'll be okay,” he said. “Connor will figure out what happened.”
Sylvie twisted a syringe into the IV port. “I'm giving you some fentanyl for the pain. That should help, okay?”
Almost instantly she felt some relief from the chest pain.
A moment later, they pulled up to the emergency entrance and the back doors were pulled open.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Connor greeted as he helped unload you. “What happened?” The question was directed at Sylvie.
“Sudden cardiac arrest. Nothing happened, she just collapsed,” Sylvie explained, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. She gave a run down of vitals and advised that she'd given fentanyl before Y/N was shifted to the hospital bed.
“Okay. Let's get a CBC, BMP, cardiac enzymes, 12-lead EKG, and a chest x-ray,” Connor ordered.
The next few hours went by in a whirlwind of pokes and tests and nurses with vitals checks. Kelly was sitting beside her bed holding her hand while she fought the pull of sleep.
“I'm so tired.”
He ran a hand over her head and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest. I'll wake you if Connor comes back with anything.”
“I–I'm scared to fall asleep.”
He squeezed her hand. “You can sleep. I promise you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you.”
Before she could succumb to sleep, Connor came into the room. “Well, I have the answer. You have something called long QT syndrome,” he started to explain. “We need to run a few more tests tomorrow so we can figure out what the best course of treatment is. So for now, we’ll get you moved up to a room and you just get some rest.”
“What kind of treatments?” she asked.
“Medication or an implanted defibrillator or some combination.”
When he left you started googling on your phone. Kelly stole your phone from your hand. “That's never a good idea. Just get some sleep, okay?”
She sighed. “Fine. I'll try.” Trying to get comfortable, she closed her eyes trying to get some sleep before another round of testing.
The last thing she heard was Kelly whispering, “Thank you for not leaving me.”
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Ice
Will & reader (could be platonic or early relationship.)
900 words
For anyone else who was missing a certain red head on Wednesday...
You felt like Bambi trying to make your way across the parking lot toward the hospital. Between sleeping through your alarm and the icy road conditions you were running very late for your shift. In your haste to get out of the house, you’d thrown on your regular shoes rather than your boots.
About halfway to the door your tractionless shoes slipped and you took a full cartoon style fall– both feet up in the air to land hard on your back. The hit knocked the wind from your lungs and it took a moment to suck in a breath.
Seconds later, the pain registered. Your back and head hurt. Before you could even think of what you should be doing next, Will was kneeling beside you.
“Don’t move,” he said. He started to run his fingers down either side of your neck in search of any abnormalities. “You hit your head pretty good. Does it hurt?”
You coughed, your lungs still trying to function properly. “Uh, yeah. My back too, kinda like up between my shoulders.”
“Okay, can you squeeze my fingers?” He placed two fingers against both your palms and you did as he'd asked. “Good, and push against my hands like you're pushing the gas pedal.” Again, you did as asked.
“Fuckin’ ice,” you muttered quietly.
“Okay. Do you think you can sit up?” Will asked.
You took another deep breath. “Yeah.” He offered his hand and very slowly pulled you into a seated position. You closed your eyes tightly as dizziness set in. “Woah.”
“Talk to me, sweetheart.”
You peeled your eyes open, locking into his concerned ones. “Just dizzy. Really dizzy.”
“You probably have a concussion,” Will suggested.
A shiver ran down your spine. “Yeah, well, won't matter if I freeze to death out here.”
Will chuckled. “We are going to move slowly. I don't need you passing out because you stood up too quickly.” He shifted so he could stand to help you up. “Ready?”
“Yup.” You winced as you straightened up, pain flaring through your back. You took half a step to get closer to Will and your feet slipped slightly. You gripped onto his arm so tightly your knuckles turned white.
“Okay, you're okay. I got ya.” He started to walk slowly and carefully towards the doors.
Once you made it to dry flooring, you sighed in relief. Will kept your hand wrapped around his arm as he headed towards the nurses station.
“Hey, Mags,” he greeted. “What's open? She took a hard fall outside.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She rubbed your shoulder gently. “Take treatment one.”
“Thanks,” said Will. “Can I get thoracic and cervical spine x-rays and a head CT?”
“And something for the pain? Please?” You asked.
“Let's get 50 micrograms of fentanyl, too,” Will added. “Oh, and a warm blanket.”
“You got it,” Maggie noted all the requests in the tablet she was holding. “Any blood work?”
“No, just the scans for now.”
About an hour later, you had finished all the scans and were trying your best not to doze off under your second warm blanket. April had brought a new one when she'd come to check your vitals.
Will came in with the tablet in his hands. “How're you feeling? In too much pain?”
You gave him a thumbs up. “I'm possibly too comfy. I'm fighting the nap hard.”
“Good news then. You can nap shortly,” he said.
“Yay!” You said lazily.
“You do have a mild concussion,” he explained. “As well as two bruised ribs. So you're stuck here for observation until at least tomorrow but you can sleep if you want.”
“Well that's gonna hurt tomorrow. Awesome,” you added sarcastically.
Will squeezed your hand gently. “At least nothing is broken. Get some rest, alright?”
“Mmhmm,” you hummed, already giving into the pull of sleep.
You had no idea how much time had passed when you woke up. It seemed a safe guess that the pain was what had roused you. It felt like someone was digging a knife into your shoulder blade and breathing made it even worse.
You groped around the bed for the call button as tears welled in your eyes. A moment later, you found it and proceeded to push it several times. April pushed the curtain back soon after.
“You're awake,” she stated.
A tear rolled down your cheek. “It hurts. It hurts a lot. I feel like I can't even breathe.”
She quickly moved closer and took your hand. “Just squeeze as hard as you need to. Take slow breaths.” Within a few minutes she had calmed you down quite a bit. “I'm gonna go find someone to get you something for the pain. I'll be right back.”
She leaned out the door and you heard her tell someone that you needed something for pain. Will came in a second later and gave April a dosage for morphine.
“That should help,” he started. “I'll make sure to get you a prescription before we send you home too. Sound good?”
“Thanks, Will,” you said. He took your hand. “What would I do without you?”
He laughed. “Probably would have just frozen to death in the parking lot. So my shift is over soon and you're getting moved upstairs. What do you say to some pizza and a movie?”
“Ooh, yes. Please! Hamburger, bacon and extra cheese for me.”
“Okay. I'll see you upstairs in an hour or so.”
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Just a Sprain
Tim x reader
WC: 1200 ish
For @whumpcember walking on injuries
--
You’d been sitting on the couch for two hours when you heard the front door unlock.
“Hey, babe,” you greet. “How do you feel about delivery for dinner? I'm thinking maybe pizza.”
“I thought you wanted to try that new recipe you–” he stopped as he rounded the couch and took you in. “What happened?”
You leaned forward and pulled the ice pack and towel off your very swollen ankle. “Ugh, I tripped off a curb like a total klutz and then I walked on it for four blocks.”
He sat, carefully avoiding your foot, then gently rubbed his hand up and down your calf. “Why didn't you call me? I would have come to get you.”
“Well it was after lunch with Sam when we were walking to the bar and I might have already been tipsy. So it didn't really hurt at the time,” you explained.
Tim chuckled. “Of course. Does it hurt now?”
You shook your head. “No. I took some ibuprofen when I got home and I've been icing it, too.”
He took the mostly melted ice pack and stood. “ER tonight or urgent care tomorrow?”
You looked up at him, confused. “For what? I'm sure it's a sprain.”
He pulls out his phone and starts typing before he explains. “That's a lot of swelling for a sprain. You're getting x-rays to make sure it's not broken.” His phone dings and he checks the screen. “Grace says you should get in pretty quick. We can grab fast food on the way.”
You let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Can we get Jack in the Box?”
“Whatever you want.” He stands from the couch and turns to lift you.
You swat at his hands. “I can walk. Or hobble slowly, anyway.”
He easily lifts you into his arms. “I think you walked on it too much already.”
“I bet you it's just a sprain.”
He smiles at you. “What do I get when you're wrong?”
“Um, a foot rub?” you suggested.
He set you in the passenger seat of his truck and started to pull out the seatbelt. “And what do you get?”
You took the buckle for him and latched it. “I got it, my arms still work. I get a dressed up dinner date.”
He chuckled and closed your door. He rounded the front and hopped into the drivers seat. “Dress shirt?”
You shook your head. “Three piece suit.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, deal.”
Ten minutes later, he was pulling into the drive-thru and ordering your dinner.
As soon as he pulled back into traffic, you pulled out sandwiches and fries. Arranging them carefully on the center armrest, you stuffed a few fries in your mouth. “This was a better idea than cooking.”
“Of course it was. You can't stand on that ankle.”
“Well, yeah. But that’s not what I meant. I wasn't really sold on that new recipe.”
While you sat in traffic on the way to the hospital, you both finished your food. Soon after, he pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He got out and rounded the truck, lifting you again and carrying you into the waiting room.
He walked up to the desk to check you in and returned a moment later with a clipboard. “You fill this out and I'm going to go park. I'll be right back.”
Shortly after he returned, you finished all the paperwork and he returned it to the check in desk. When he sat, you leaned your head on his shoulder. He kissed the crown of your head before resting his cheek against your head. Both of you pulled out your phones to pass the time.
As Grace had promised, you didn't have to wait long. It had only been about half an hour a nurse was calling you back.
“Can we grab a wheelchair?” Tim requested.
“Oh, of course. I'll be right back.” She disappeared around the corner and then pushed the chair over to you.
Tim helped you stand on your good leg and rotate to the wheelchair.
The nurse took you back to a room and Tim helped again with getting you situated on the bed. She quickly collected a set of vitals and left with a promise that a doctor would be in soon.
Grace came into the room a couple minutes later. “Hey, guys. How are you?”
“I'm fine,” you started. “I tripped over a curb earlier and Tim thinks it's broken. I think he's paranoid.”
“Alright, well let's take a look.” She looked at your foot and carefully examined it. Once she'd checked everything over she asked, “So you said you tripped on a curb? Going up or down?”
“Down,” you explained. “I wasn't paying attention and I was closer to it than I thought and I guess, technically, kind of rolled my ankle on the top and then my foot slid and I fell. But it really didn't hurt that much. Not even after I walked four more blocks to the bar.”
She hummed. “Well let's get an x-ray and see what we've got, okay?”
“Okay.”
“They'll come get you shortly and take you down to radiology.”
“Thanks, Grace,” Tim said. “Could we get an ice pack to put on it while we wait?”
“Already on it. The nurse will bring that in–” She was interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal the same nurse that'd brought you back. “Right now.” Grace laughed. “I'll be back as soon as I get those x-rays. Just call a nurse or text me if you need anything.”
A few minutes later, a guy came in pushing a wheelchair. “Evening, I'm Matt. I'll be your ride to x-ray.”
He and Tim helped you maneuver into the wheelchair. “I should have just stayed in the one I was in a minute ago.”
“You can wait here,” Matt told Tim. “You can't go into radiology. We'll be back in a few minutes.”
Soon you were back in the same room in the ER waiting for Grace to come tell you the results of the x-ray.
“Okay, so you do have a small hairline fracture,” Grace announced as she entered. She took the x-ray and slid it onto the light board. She traced a small dark line across the bone. “I'm pretty sure it is a stress fracture from walking on the sprain.”
“Ugh. So cast?” You ask.
“No. You'll get a boot for a few weeks and then a brace after that,” she explains. “Once the fracture heals, you'll likely need some physical therapy.”
She quickly got you set up with the boot and a referral to PT. Then she got you discharged and Tim walked you back to the truck.
Once he buckled his seat belt, he looked over at you. “So, I think you owe me a foot rub.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”
“I'll hold off on cashing in until you're healed, deal?” He offers.
“Okay,” you agree.
He takes your hand in his. “How about some ice cream on the way home?”
“Yes, please!”
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