It was late Friday night when you got the phone call. Josh had gone out with some friends to celebrate him being back in LA. You were equally excited to be back home and have a bit of a break, but you chose to stay home and enjoy doing absolutely nothing for the first time in months. You and Josh had spent all of last week in Jamaica, holed up in a luxury hotel to have a nice vacation together, so you didn’t even bat an eye when Josh told you that he was meeting some of his friends. You simply kissed him and sent him on his way.
It had been two or three hours since Josh had left when your phone rang. Laura’s name popped up, along with a picture of her, Josh and you from Ashley’s wedding.
“Hi Laura,” you answered.
“Y/N?” She asked, voice broken and sounding almost hysterical.
“Laura? What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to make out what she was sobbing through the phone.
“It’s Josh,” she cried, and your heart instantly dropped down to the pit of your stomach.
“Mom—,” you heard either Ashley or Abigail say before there was shuffling on the other line.
“Hello?” you asked, becoming frantic.
“Y/N,” Ashley’s voice came through the phone, you could tell she’d been crying too, but she was more put together than her mother.
“Ashley, what the hell’s going on? You guys are scaring the shit out of me. What about Josh?” you asked.
“They won’t tell us much over the phone. He was in an accident, and they called mom. They said he’s in a bad state, but they won’t say much else until we get there. Dad’s driving us to the airport, but it’ll be a while before we get a flight. Mom told them your name so they’ll release information to you when you get there. They took him to The Southside Kindred Hospital, but you’ve got to get there so you can figure out what’s going on. We’re all a bit in hysterics,” she said, voice rough with tears.
“Oh my god—,” you said, running around the house trying to collect your shoes and a jacket, before grabbing your wallet and keys. “Is he okay, Ash?” you asked on your way out the door. You hurried into your car before speeding down the street.
“We don’t even know,” Ashley sounded frustrated. “Just call us when you get there and they’ve told you what’s going on. Get there quickly, please. But drive safe because Josh being in the hospital is enough.”
“Of course, Ashley. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on. Love you guys,” you said, knuckles whitening as you clutched the steering wheel.
Your mind was in a thousand different places at once the entire drive to the hospital, but when you got there, you parked quickly before practically sprinting inside the emergency room and over to the receptionist seated behind a desk.
“Can I help you?” She asks.
You look around frantically, “My name’s Y/F/N,” you blurt out. “Josh Dun— was brought here.. or I mean I got a phone call from his mom and sister saying he’d been in a car accident and he was here or that he’d be here.”
“What’s your relation to him?” She asked, typing away on the computer.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you say.
“Right, okay. He hasn’t arrived yet” she says, looking up at you from her screen. The ambulance estimated arrival time to be 11:20, so it should be any minute now. If you’d like to have a seat—“ she motions towards the waiting room, mostly emptied tonight.
You paced around the room instead, looking out the window, just to give yourself something to do, until you heard the bustling sound of the emergency room doors being shoved open.
“We need IV fluids stat—“
“I need to get this leg stabilized—“
“Not until we take care of that laceration!”
It’s almost like the whole thing happens in slow motion, because you’re able to pay attention to every single detail being flown through the doors. There’s three EMT’s, all dressed in dark pants and a blue collar shirt. Then there’s someone dressed in scrubs with a wind-breaker looking poncho on. They’re all looking rather frazzled, muttering medical terms that you don’t quite understand. And then there’s Josh. You don’t get a perfect view of him, since everyone else is hovering over his body, but it’s enough. He’s unconscious, his eyes closed peacefully, almost like he was sleeping. Then you notice the blood gushing out of his temple, dripping into his eccentric yellow hair, almost making it look like the ruby color he had last summer again.
You have to cover your mouth and bite down on the cloth of your sweatshirt to keep from screaming.
They keep pushing him along in the stretcher. Two nurses hold open some double doors and before you know it, he’s being pushed away, out of your sight again. You run after them all, not wanting to be left in the dark. Josh needed you.
“Ma’am, you can’t go in there!” A nurse says, holding you back. You push against him, trying to slip by, but it’s no use. You’re hysterical and much too weak, so you let yourself all but collapse into the arms of this man instead.
“Where are they taking him?!” you say, a blubbery mess.
“Our doctors are gonna take good care of him—“ he assures you as he helps you walk back to the waiting room. You fall into the seat, curling your knees up into your chest and wounding your arms around yourself, just trying to hold it together.
It takes thirty three minutes for a doctor to come into the waiting room to find you. He’s got a scrub cap and gloves on, which he removes as he walks your way.
“Can I see him?” you blurt out, your eyes full of hope.
“You’re Y/N?” he asks. You nod back quickly. “Not right now, Y/N. He was in a very bad accident. It’s my understanding that the police will be in here shortly to tell you of the details of that, but I’m here to tell you about his medical condition. He’s in ICU now; we’ve got him stabilized. He is in serious condition though; the next few hours are crucial. His right leg is shattered, his arm is broken, too and he has several cuts and bruises; one on the right side of his head. It was cut by glass, he has twelve stitches right now. That injury may or may not have caused some trauma which could then potentially lead to some temporary memory loss or amnesia. But what we’re very worried about, is the internal damage. His entire body was bruised, and there was some internal bleeding in his lungs, which is not a good sign. They’re going to prep him for surgery now, to drain the fluids. After we open him up, we’ll know the extent of the damage,” he pauses, staring down at the scrub cap he has in his hands, before taking a deep breath, “I don’t know if you’re a religious woman, Ms. Y/L/N but if you are, I would start saying some prayers. He’s not out of the woods yet. I’m sorry that I can’t give you better news, but as I said, it was a very bad accident and it’s very serious. But I will personally keep you updated, especially after his surgery,” the man finishes, patting you on the shoulder before he walked out and softly closed the door.
You stare ahead, stunned by everything the doctor said. It was so much worse than you thought. Josh’s life was still in danger, and the doctor was worried he might not make it. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you stood up and started walking around the room, your hands finding your hair so you could give it a little tug, hoping the pull would relieve some of the fear flooding through you. You wiped your tears away and tried to clear your throat so that you didn’t sound like the complete wreck that you felt like as you began dialing Ashley’s number.
“Y/N?” She answered right away. “How is he? Have you seen him yet?”
“I saw him coming in—” you said, the tears began stinging your eyes again. “But not since they took him back.”
“What did the doctor say?” she asked.
“It’s bad Ashley. His leg and arm are broken and he’s got a cut on the side of his head but he’s in ICU and they’re prepping him for surgery because it’s really bad, like internally I guess. There’s blood in his lungs and they said he was stabilized but they don’t know what’s going on inside of his body,” you said, giving up on holding the tears back. “The doctor said we might want to start praying and it’s just really bad and I can’t fucking breathe in this waiting room they put me in. I can’t see him Ashley. I can’t go see him and he’s not okay.”
“Y/N, fuck, please breathe,” she says. Her voice was thick with emotion but it didn’t sound like she was crying. “He’s at one of the best hospitals in the state. They’re going to do everything they can. I’m sorry you’re there alone but we’re catching a flight out soon and we’ll be there in a few hours. I called Tyler and Jenna, they’re coming too.”
“Okay,” you say, forcing yourself to breathe properly. “Call me when you guys get in.”
“Good. Just stay there. Josh needs you to be strong. We’ll be there soon,” She promised.
“Get here safe,” you say, “Love you guys.”
“We love you,” Ashley says before hanging up.
You scroll through your phone, wondering if you should call anyone. You desperately wanted someone to be here with you, but everyone you considered calling either already knew, or was all the way back in Ohio. You locked your phone and stuffed it back in your pocket, rendering the whole thing pointless.
It takes Josh’s family over five hours to get to you. In that time, you’ve been visited by the doctor twice, telling you that Josh was still in surgery, but that he was stable and they were doing the best they could. You’d also been to the bathroom twice to throw up, and bitten your nails down to the skin.
Tyler and Jenna arrive first. They run through the double doors, hand-in-hand, both with exhausted, but concerned looking faces.
“Oh my god—“ Jenna says when she sees you. They both rush over, engulfing you in a hug. You cling to them, crying into one of their shoulders.
“We got here first. There was a flight leaving that had two empty seats. We told Laura to go, but she refused to leave Ash, Jordan, or Abigail. What the hell happened?” Tyler says.
“Fuck if I know! He was in a car accident and they said the police would come in and tell me about that, which they haven’t. I swear to God if he drove while he was drunk I’m gonna-”
“Y/N,” Tyler cuts you off. “Calm down. Breathe.”
You stopped talking and focused on Jenna rubbing your back as you counted your breaths.
“This isn’t real..” you say, as you lean your head on Jenna’s shoulder. “Tell me he’s going to be okay, Ty.”
Tyler sighs, “Josh’s been a fighter since the day both of us have met him. He’s always fought for what he’s cared about. Music. The band. You. He’s not about to give up that easily. He’s gonna fight through this.”
You let out a broken sob as you used the sleeves of your shirt to wipe tears away. Then you all sat there in silence for a while after that.
Only a couple of minutes passed when two policemen walked in, looking around the room sadly. “Which one of you is Y/F/N?” One of them asked, looking at you like he already knew.
“Me,” you croaked out, sitting upright on the seat.
“We’re just here to tell you about the accident,” The other said.
“Okay,” you nodded.
“A few witnesses all gave the same story. But uh Mr. Dun was driving when a car suddenly swerved across the center line and hit him head on. The airbags deployed and the cars were spinning until Mr. Dun’s car hit the barrier. The driver of the other car was intoxicated above legal limit, and died at the scene. Mr. Dun was stuck in his car, which was pressed against the barrier, so it took a while for paramedics to get him out. He was unconscious when they arrived, witnesses said he was unconscious when they ran over there.” The first policeman said. “We’ve just printed off the pictures of the cars and the damage. These copies are yours.”
You reached out and took the papers, waiting until the police left before he looked at them. “Oh my god,” you gasped as you almost fell back on to the couch. Tyler helped you sit down before they looked at the pictures. Josh’s car was completely demolished. It looked like a pile of black and gray scrap metal. And you weren’t particularly religious, but you said another silent prayer thanking whatever higher power that Josh even made it out alive, while simultaneously begging for him to make it through the night.
You looked at the clock again, and was about to make some comment under your breath about how long this surgery was taking before the door opened and the same doctor walked in again. You stood up immediately, walking to the doctor. “Well?”
He looked around at the new faces in the room before continuing, “The impact of the collision physically caused a broken rib to puncture a lung. We are in the process of emptying his lungs of any fluid that’s making it hard to breathe. He’s still stable, though, which is good. He can’t breathe on his own, so he’s got a breathing tube. Tonight is going to be a big one, and the next few days will decide a lot, but we’re hopeful. His body is going through a lot, trying to heal itself. It’s up to him now and he has to fight to get better.”
“So that’s all you can do?” You asked, not sure if you should be relieved or not.
“For now. We’ll keep doing what we can for him.”
Dr. Wells nodded. “We put him in a medically induced coma, the body heals best that way, and it lets him sleep through the worst of the pain. As of now, we plan to have him in the coma for a week, but we will keep you updated. You should be able to go in and visit him soon.”
“Okay,” you nodded, not sure of what else to do or ask.
“I’ll come get you when you can visit him,” he promised.
You thanked the doctor before going back and sitting down, pulling out your phone to call Ashley. You were just ready to ring her again, when her name popped up on your phone, “Just getting ready to call you,” you answered.
“We’re heading over now,” she said. “Is he okay?”
“He’s stable,” you said.
“Okay,” Ashley said, “See you in a few.”
You nearly dropped your phone when Laura and Ashley walk through the doors. You sprint over and wrap your arms around the both of them, letting them hold you tight. The rest of Josh’s family filter in behind them, all with tear stained faces and tired eyes.
“What’s going on?” Laura said, wiping her eyes.
Just then, the doctor reemerges. “Ah, family I presume?”
“I’m his mother,” Laura says, outstretching her arm. “How is he?”
“We’ve set his broken bones and put casts on, and we’re monitoring him carefully. He’s been stabilized, but you can go see him now,” Dr. Wells said. “Not all of you at once though, please. Just three of you for now.”
Laura nodded. “Y/N and Ash, come with me for now.”
“Laura,” you say, shaking your head, looking at Josh’s dad.
“Go ahead, son,” he says. “I’ll be in to see him soon.”
You nodded, following the doctor, “I just want to warn you, he’s pretty beat up,” he says before he opened the door to Josh’s room, letting the three of you in before he left. You stood frozen at the foot of the bed. Josh looked more than beaten and bruised; he was hooked up to machines and he had an IV running into his arm. The right side of his head was shaved down to the skin where there was a nasty looking cut just above his ear that stretched around the side of his head.
You heard Ashley and Laura whispering quietly to Josh, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You felt like you weren’t really here, almost like you were just watching a tragic movie play out, but you were brought back to reality when you forced yourself to understand that this was Josh lying in the hospital bed, fighting for his life right now.
Laura walked over and kissed your forehead. “We’ll give you a minute, then send the others in,” she said.
You nodded as they walked out the door and immediately you went to sit in the chair at Josh’s side. “Hi, love,” you said, voice thick with emotion as you entwined your fingers with Josh’s. “Wow, I hate seeing you like this.” you thought about what you wanted to say, although you were pretty sure Josh couldn’t hear you anyway. “You’ve got me so worried, baby. Your mum and dad, Ashley and Abigail, Jordan, Tyler and Jenna. They’re all here, everyone’s so worried about you, babe. We love you so much. I love you so much, Josh, you’ve got to get better, okay? I want you to fight harder than you ever have before,” you said, looking down to where your tears were falling on Josh’s bed. “You’ve got to get better and pull through, okay? For me. I need you.”
You sat there for another minute, letting yourself cry and hold Josh’s hand. Y
When you walked back to the room, you sent the others in before sitting, curled up on a seta, not looking at anyone else. You sat there for a while with your head on your knees, thinking about Josh and how much you loved him, and how completely fucked your life would be if Josh wasn’t in it anymore.
You only look up after feeling someone’s soft touch on your shoulder. “Why don’t you head home, love?” It’s Laura. “You need rest.”
You immediately shake your head. “I’m going to sleep shitty no matter where I am, I might as well be here.”
Laura nods before sighing. “We rented a hotel nearby,” she says, looking reluctant to leave. “We’ll be back in a few hours,” she says.
Once they’re gone and Tyler and Jenna emerge from Josh’s room, you head back in, taking the chair near his bed. “I love you. I love you so much,” you sighed, letting the steady beeping of Josh’s heart monitor lull you to sleep.
When you wake up, it was to a sore neck, the fast beeping of the heart monitor and the door to Josh’s room being thrown open quickly. “You need to leave,” A nurse says as she practically pulled you from the chair and a flood of doctors ran in.
“No, what’s going on,” you asked, suddenly very alert as you saw electric shock paddles.
“You need to go,” The nurse says.
You heard the fast beeping of the heart monitor suddenly turn to a long, steady, beep. “No!” you scream. “Josh, no!” You push past his nurse before another pulled on your arms. “Don’t you fucking leave!” you yelled. “Josh please, wake up!” The nurses dragged you out just as the doctor ripped Josh’s dressing gown open and placed the paddles on his chest.
You were hyperventilating as you felt strong, somewhat familiar arms around you instead of the nurses. “Y/N,” You heard Tyler say.
“Ty, no,” You cried. “He can’t.”
“No, no, no no no no, fuck no,” you sobbed, collapsing into Tyler’s arms further, “I can’t breathe. He has to be okay!”
All you could think about was Josh, and no, Josh couldn’t be gone. You clutched yourself around the middle, trying to put some sort of pressure on your body to hold it together. But it was too hard, so you let Tyler hold you instead while you sobbed into the fabric of his sweatshirt.
It wasn’t until a nurse walked in that you could breathe again.
“We got him back,” she says, sighing a breath of relief.
You gasped as you felt air fill your lungs for what felt like the first time in hours. “He’s okay?”
“He’s stable again,” she says.
“Can I see him?”
“You need rest—“ Tyler interjected.
“I need to see him!” you argue. “I need to call Laura—“
“What and wake her up too? You all need rest.”
You finally gave in and rested your head in Jenna’s lap as Tyler threw a blanket over you. You listened to the quiet noise of the TV playing and fell asleep again to Jenna running her fingers through your hair.
The next time you wake up, it was more peaceful. Jenna was whispering to Tyler about something you couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You stretched and sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you looked around. Jordan and Ashley were sitting in one of the chairs on their phones. Abigail was sitting next to her dad on the couch and Laura was by the water cooler.
The doctor walks through the double doors just then, causing you to become more alert. “Josh’s been improving significantly since he flat lined this morning. He’ll still be in the induced coma for the next few days, but if he keeps improving at this rate, he should be awake after that. You’re more than welcome to still come visit him, as long as you listen to the nurses,” he said giving you a look. “I will keep you updated, but just know he’ll still be out for a few days.”
They all nodded and thanked the doctor.
The next few days passed faster than you would’ve thought. Josh was slowly but steadily healing, and the doctor finally tells them that he thinks Josh would make a full recovery. You nearly melted with relief. You couldn’t help the nagging in your head that said even if he physically recovered, he still might have head trauma and memory loss.
Josh was starting to look better, much to your relief. His smaller cuts were healing, and the color was starting to come back to his face.
One week after his accident, you, Laura and Jordan were in Josh’s room as the doctor took out the breathing tube, and you all let out a sigh of relief when Josh started breathing on his own.
“We’ve stopped the medicine that’s keeping him in a coma,” the nurse says. “It could take anywhere for a few hours to a few days for him to completely wake up though. This is all up to him now. When his body is ready to wake up, it will. I know this is a hard time to be patient, but I don’t want you to get discouraged if he doesn’t wake up today, okay?”
All three of them nodded.
“Alright, Josh,” Jordan says. “You’ve kept us here for the longest week of our lives. Time to wake up now, bro.”
Josh didn’t wake up the first day, like you’d hoped he would.
You tried not to worry when Josh didn’t wake up the second day either.
By the time it got to the forth day they’d taken Josh off the medicine, you began panicking. “You can’t do anything?” You asked the doctor for what had to have been the thousandth time.
“He’s still recovering and his body is exhausted,” he says, “Give him time.”
You started losing track of the days and time, seeing as you didn’t leave the hospital for two weeks. When you woke up one day, you blinked and looked around to see that the sun had set, but it was still fairly light outside. The room was quiet, except for Josh’s heart monitor. You looked to the clock to see that you’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but it was still early evening. You rubbed your eyes before you felt the same thing that woke you up in the first place: a slight pressure on your hand that was laced with Josh’s.
“Josh?” you asked, jumping up and sitting on the edge of the bed running your free hand through Josh’s messy hair. “Love, can you hear me?” you tried not to get too excited, but you knew that you hadn’t imagined Josh squeezing it. “Babe, if you can hear me, can you please try to squeeze my hand again?”
You waited and felt the slightest pressure on your hand again. Your eyes filled with tears of relief. You reached up to press the red button to call a nurse in, before you turned your attention back to Josh. “Are you waking up, love?” you asked. Josh squeezed your hand again. “Josh,” you sighed, cupping the side of his face. “Can you find your voice, baby?”
Josh sighed and you saw movement underneath his eyelids, but he kept his them shut as he squeezed your hand again, but for longer. “That’s okay,” you said quietly, afraid of being too loud. The nurse walked in, eyes wide as she looked at Josh and you. “He’s waking up,” you smiled.
She grinned at him. “I’ll go get Dr. Cochran.”
“Do you know who I am, love?” you asked, the question burning in his head. “It’s me, it’s Y/N.”
Josh squeezed your hand again and he made a small noise in the back of his throat that you thought sounded almost offended. You loved that it sounded crazy for Josh not to know who you were.
“He’s waking up?” Dr. Cochran asked.
“Yeah,” you smiled.
“Wonderful. I need you to step back for a few minutes,” Dr. Cochran says.
You hesitate and Josh squeezes your hand tighter than he had yet, but you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Not going anywhere far. I’m right here.”
“She hasn’t left your side yet, Josh,” Dr. Cochran says. “Don’t think I could get her to leave now.”
Dr. Cochran and the nurse continued asking Josh questions, progressing to see if Josh could feel his feet, arms, legs, chest, hips. Yes, yes, yes. He could feel it all. “We’re going to turn all of the lights off, except for the lamp in the corner, okay Josh? It’s not too bright in here, it wont hurt your eyes. I know your eyelids feel heavy now, and I know you’re exhausted, but can you please try to open your eyes?”
You watched, with his heart pounding heavily as Josh’s eyes fluttered, but his eyelids stayed closed.
“I need you to try a little harder for me, Josh,” Dr. Wells said.
Josh let out a quiet, yet disgruntled sigh as his eyes moved rapidly under his lids. Dr. Cochran looked at you, then looked pointedly at Josh, nodding his head once.
You nodded before going and sitting on the bed next to Josh. You took his hand in yours again, “Hey love, it’s me,” you said quietly. “Been waiting here for an awful long time to see you awake again. I miss you. I miss your eyes. Can you open up for me? Just for a bit, then you can go back to sleep.”
Josh’s eyes fluttered again, then finally opened and you let out the biggest sigh of relief. Josh let out a soft grunt, then let his eyes close again, blinking them slowly before he opened them again.
“I’m right here, baby,” you said softly, waiting for Josh’s glazed eyes to focus on you.
“You’ve been on a breathing tube, which is why your throat is sore. Don’t try to talk yet if it hurts too much. I’m very glad to see you awake, Josh. A lot of people will be glad. You can sleep now, we’ll do some more tests when you wake up again.”
Dr. Cochran and the nurse left, and Josh’s eyes started drooping immediately. “Your family are here, Josh, I’m sorry they’re not in here right now. They’ll be in here when you wake up again.”
Josh squeezed your hand tightly as his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.
“I’ll be here too, promise.”
The next time Josh woke up was the next morning; Laura was by his side while you sat on the windowsill. The doctor ran some more tests and Josh cleared his throat once before he decided he needed to sleep again.
Josh didn’t wake up again until the next night. You were sitting next to Josh when he stretched out his fingers and you looked up to see Josh looking at you with a small smile on his face. You took his hand immediately and smiled.
“Hi,” you smiled.
Josh cleared his throat and looked over to the small side table.
“Water?” you asked.
“Don’t talk if it hurts too much,” you warned.
Josh shook his head. “Throat feels a little better,” he says. His voice was rough and scratchy, so quiet that you had to strain yourself to listen carefully, but Josh was talking.
You sighed in relief. “Good. You still look out of it.”
“How?” Josh asked.
You smiled. “You just look exhausted.”
“I’m so tired,” he sighed.
You kissed his forehead, “Go back to sleep, baby. I love you so much. Gonna be right here when you wake up.”
“Love you,” Josh sighed before he fell asleep again.
It took three more days for Josh to be awake longer than fifteen minutes, and for his eyes to clear up. By that point, the anesthesia had completely worn off, and Josh was looking much better.
Everyone visited constantly throughout the day. Tyler and Jenna were in and out and Josh’s entire family had been staying in the nearby hotel for weeks now. When everyone all finally left at the end of the day, Josh made space on the bed for you to lay with him.
“You scared the shit out of me, you know?” you whispered.
“Will you tell me everything, now?” he asked. No one had told Josh what had happened, more focused on getting him better, since he was mostly out of it anyway and he wouldn’t remember. But now he was alert, and you forced yourself to open up.
“Car accident. Drunk driver hit you head on and it was bad. The car is completely wrecked, sorry about that,” you sighed. “What was the last thing you remember?”
“I was at the club. We were having a good time, but I really didn’t feel like drinking. I stayed with everyone for a bit, then I wanted to get home to you,” he said. “Hey Y/N?”
“What happened to the other driver?”
You closed your eyes. “He didn’t make it.”
Josh tensed and squeezed your fingers tightly. “They died?”
“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry.,” you whispered.
“I almost died too?”
“You did for minute,” you said squeezing your eyes shut again, you let yourself inhale the smell of him before continuing. “I was right here, beside you, and you started flatlining. They had to drag me out and do the whole paddle-thing. I thought I was going to lose you. It was the worst minute of my entire fucking life,” you whispered.
Josh squeezed your hand tightly, but you kept your eyes closed, ignoring the tears filling up as you thought about the seconds you thought you’d lost Josh.
“It was that bad?”
“They didn’t think you were gonna make it through the night. I’ve never been so scared in my life,” you said.
“Babe,” Josh whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault. I’m just scared to leave you alone right now. Don’t wanna let you go,” you sighed.
“I don’t really want you to leave. But promise me something?” he asked.
“After I fall asleep again, go home. Shower, eat some food, and try to sleep. I love you so much and I’m so grateful to you for being here but you haven’t left the hospital in what? Three weeks? Ash and my mom will be back soon, Ty’s here. I’ll be fine. You look like hell, love, and I’m a little worried,” Josh said.
You sighed. “I’ll shower and eat, but I’m not sleeping in the bed without you. I’m staying here until you can come home with me.”
Josh rolls his eyes but nods. “Fine. Thanks for being here. I love you so much.”
It had been hours since you had last spoken, you supposed there was nothing you could say that could make the tense situation any better. A big part of you, the smart part of you, wanted to get up and walk out of the waiting room. Then, there’s the other part of you, the part that can’t leave Jiyong alone, stays and you’re too weak to fight against it. For your love towards Jiyong, you stay seated beside him rubbing his back comfortingly as he torments himself with what could be happening inside to his ex-girlfriend.
Imagine Roger describing 1960s Claire(and possibly his remembrance of 1940s Claire from his childhood)to Jamie.
One-shot; takes place just after the Gathering in book-verse (The Fiery Cross).
Bear in mind, this means Jamie and Roger are only *newly* on solid-ish ground after all the unpleasantness between them in Drums of Autumn. If you haven’t read the books, just imagine the very worst start a man could get off to with his father-in-law. (YIKES.)
Fraser’s Ridge, North Carolina
The word sounded absolutely stupid coming out of his father-in-law’s mouth, which (infuriatingly!) made ROGER feel the foolish one. “C’mon, ye know. Poofy? Like—voluminous?—”
Jamie Fraser snorted violently into his lunch of bread and pickle and Roger felt a wave of anxiety. Was the word somehow offensive in this time?? But surely ‘poofy’ was more easily misconstrued than—
But Jamie—seated on a log next to Roger’s boulder—came up grinning, still coughing on crumbs as he choked out, “Ye mean to say there was a time when Claire’s hair was MORE voluminous than it is NOW?”
They both laughed and Roger drank in the relief of the camaraderie, flimsy as it might be.
“Christ almighty,” Jamie swore with feeling as the laughter subsided, shaking his head in genuine incredulity, “however did she manage THAT?”
“I dinna ken exactly,” Roger admitted with a hopefully-easy shrug, passing the stone bottle of cider, “Claire’s was sort of—” he made a swooping gesture overtop his own crown “—um…I dinna ken how to describe it.. Kind of—”
“A bouffant,” Brianna interjected helpfully, plopping down next to Jamie (well, as much as a six-foot-tall woman with a sleeping baby strapped to her front could ‘plop’) and doing a quick sketch in the dirt with a stick.
“Oh, aye, a *bouffant,*” He grinned, leaning over to kiss his wife and son, grateful for the buffer. “I definitely knew that’s what it was called.”
“How does—? But—where do the curls go?” Jamie kept tilting his head from side to side like a puppy as he peered down, clearly having difficulty translating the rough illustration to his wife’s head. “And how in hell did she get it to stay all rounded and puffed up?”
“HAIRSPRAY,” he and Bree said in unison, though he left the task of explaining aerosol cans and their uses to the engineer.
By the end, Jamie was grinning like a fiend. “Claire would glue her hair into place every day for fashion??”
“Yep!” Bree laughed, expertly cupping Jem’s head as she bent forward to reach for a hunk of bread, “unless she was doing an operation that day, obviously. Not much call for style under a scrub cap.”
Shaking his head in gleeful wonder, Jamie turned back to Roger. “What else was different about ‘Sixties Claire,’ to your eye, other than the hair?”
“Oo, her groovy makeup!” Bree said through a large bite.
“Gr–? Cosmetics, ye mean?”
“Aye, just so!” Roger said, hoping to win some son-in-law points, meagre as they might be. “And ‘groovy’ just means daring in an admirable way.”
“Well, that sounds like Claire, right enough. Does every woman wear the GreuvvyMakeup, then?”
Bree shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“I tell ye what, though,” Roger said emphatically, seeing the opportunity and seizing it, “Claire certainly didna need all that. Not one bit.”
It was like a horror film.
Two identical faces swiveled on tall, twin necks, fixing him with identical expressions of amusement. Or possibly menace. Either way, absolutely TERRIFYING.
“What?” he snapped, his face flushing as he looked back and forth between them.
Jamie’s eyebrows were raised. “Why should Claire not have needed the cosmetics?”
Bree raised hers to match, her lips quivering with suppressed laughter. “Yes, Roger: do tell!”
He made a scoffing sound. “Well, no, I mean—”
“If ‘pretty much’ all women wore it,” Jamie asked, face completely inscrutable, “why should Claire have been any different?
“No, she’s—Well, I mean she IS—” This was not going well. “All I was trying to say is Claire’s very—She’s got very lovely—”
The movie had shifted into one where the out-of-control-robot car had locked you inside and was accelerating top-speed into a canyon. Cannot—BRAKE—
“OH. MY. GODDD!!” Bree whooped with glee, making Jemmy jump in his sleep and thump his forehead against her chest.
Jamie said nothing and only sipped his drink, but damn him, there was an effing GLEAM in those cats’ eyes.
Bree coughed through her giggles and waved her hand in a ‘hold on, hold on’ gesture. “So—wait: when we met in Inverness….were you checking out my mother’s ‘skin’?”
“I wasna CHECKING HER OUT,” he insisted with a mocking tone to show what a ridiculous suggestion it was (but SHIT if he didn’t sound all kinds of guilty AND if he didn’t want to fling himself into a hole and never come out). Pull yourself the fuck together, MacKenzie.
“Look,” he sighed, “Claire’s a very attractive woman, and—”
“So we’ve gone from verra lovely to verra *attractive*, have we?”
“It—I—” Damn that fucking ginger hide: Roger couldn’t tell if the man was poking fun or literally about to bash his head open against a tree.
“Wait, wait, didn’t—oh JEEZ, it’s too much—” Bree was clutching Jem tight, dying with laughter, and was NOT giving this up. “Didn’t you tell me once that Mama reminded you of Anne Bancroft??”
“Who’s that?” Jamie demanded, his narrowed eyes snapping to Roger.
Yep, it had now become the kind of horror movie where the supporting actor looks at the camera and gets in that *one great scream* for their reel right before they get eaten alive to thicken the plot for the protagonists.
Bree was on a roll. “A famous, very *sexy* actress! She was in a—play (sort of) with Dustin Hoffman who has the role of this university boy who is seduced by an older wo—”
“—S’QUITE ENUFF’A’THAT!” His voice cracked on the panicked outburst (can a man not catch a BREAK???), at which his wife dissolved into further spasms. “Oh for God’s sake, Bree, it was YOU that I checked out, if ye need reminding!!”
“And just why were ye ‘checking out’ an unmarrit lass?” Jamie said, turning expertly on the conversational dime, “A guest in your home, no less? MY daughter?”
“I wasna—I ABSOLUTELY did NOT—Oh, for fuck’s SAKE!”
They were both quaking with laughter where they sat.
Roger threw up his hands up and stormed to his feet. “You two bloody deserve each other, ye know! Twisting a man’s words, ‘til—Oh, willye shut up and LISTEN, THE BOTH OF YE!”
They knocked heads as they slumped against each other, tears streaming down their ruddy cheeks.
Roger made huge, sweeping gestures to left and right for emphasis. “CLAIRE IS VERY BEAUTIFUL. BRIANNA IS VERY BEAUTIFUL. WE’RE ALL FAMILY NOW, CAN WE BE *DONE* WI’—”
“What on EARTH are you lot bellowing about!?!”
He whirled around to see Claire, flushed and dirt-streaked, gathering basket in hand, her eyes wide. “Is everything alright?”
Roger gave both redheads a sidelong glare that HE would have said could have melted steel, but just make Brianna shake even harder. She was suppressing outright cackling only by pressing her lips into the top of Jemmy’s fuzzy head.
“Nay, all’s well, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said, surprising Roger by getting to his feet. He came over to put a hand on his wife’s waist and kiss her on the cheek. “Roger Mac, here, was only singing the praises of your great charm and beauty, mo ghraidh, much to the credit of ye both.”
“Oh! Well!” Claire flushed, sounding both surprised and pleased. “That’s very sweet of you, Roger, dear, thank you.”
Roger, stunned, scraped up enough presence of mind to give her a smile and a little self-deprecating bow.
She didn’t bother to suppress a grin as she went on her way toward the drying shed. “I rather needed that, today.”
Once she was out of earshot, Roger met Jamie’s eye and inclined his head with a sincere, “Thanks.”
“Think nothing of it,” his father-in-law said, clapping him on the shoulder in passing as he headed back to the woodpile “…Dustin.”
“Open yer mouth.” I ordered with what I thought
might be a commanding voice, holding a spoon in front of her stubbornly closed
lips. “This jelly actually looks delicious. Ye need yer strength.”
“Yuck.” Claire showed me her tongue in
distaste. “Why don’t you eat it,
then? I’ve been eating that yellow blob for the last three weeks!”
“Sometimes it’s red.” I pointed patiently. “I
ken ye’re tired of being here, mo nighean
donn – I have spent enough time in hospitals to last me a lifetime, I assure ye – but ye’re scrawny as a bird fallen
from its nest. They won’t let ye leave unless ye put on some weight.”
“Fine.” She replied in a mordant tone,
clutching the spoon away from me. “But I can feed myself – I’ve been shot, not
taken back in time to when I was two years old.”
“Then stop acting like a wicked bairn.” I
offered her a playful nose scrunch. “How is yer pain?”
“About as good as it was two minutes ago, the
last time you asked.” Claire swallowed a spoonful of the hospital’s dessert,
grimacing. “Are you sure you haven’t been a nurse in a past life? You seem to
like prodding and ordering way too much.”
“I’m sure whatever I was, ye were always the
one in charge, lass.” I kissed her forehead – marvelling with the freshness of
her skin, after so many days of burning fever. On top of her surgery, from
which she was slowly recovering, Claire had developed an infection of her
suture – which finally had started to heal properly, after days of intravenous
antibiotics. Her usually calm and centred temper had suffered with prolonged
seclusion and constant fear of a relapse – and undoubtedly she found my
constant attentions profoundly tiresome, if amusing and heartening.
“How is my favourite patient?” Denzel asked,
entering the room and greeting us with a warm smile. He looked tired, wearing
his crumpled scrubs, his surgical cap slightly hanging from a pocket. “I hear
half of the nurses in the department are handing in their notices, unless I
“Hardly.” Claire smiled, neatly folding a
corner of her sheet after pushing away the lunch tray. She still looked quite
pale, with deep dark smudges under her eyes, but her orbs had regained their
usual sharpness and liveliness. “But I’ll let you get away with it if you let
me leave this damned place.”
“I’ll have to check your dressings.” Denny
squeezed my shoulder in a companion manner, before stepping in to expose her
abdomen, still covered with fluffy white bandages. “Your labs are back though –
your infection parameters are finally down, so you might be in for some good
After some clicking of his tongue – and a heated
debate between the two doctors, from which I only understood about half the strange
words – it was settled that Claire was allowed to leave the next day, as long
as she accepted to come in every two days to check and redress the wound.
“And you have to build up some body again.”
Denzel alerted, ignoring her disarming glances with a professional face. “The
infection took almost all of your muscle. You need to eat a bit more if you
want to heal nicely.”
“Fine!” She conceded, mocking exasperation. “Get
me a cheeseburger, then!”
“Take care, Claire.” Denny winked and brushed
her hair with a kind hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning before you leave.”
“Will ye go home, do ye think?” I asked slowly,
as she adjusted her pillow to settle in for the afternoon, after Denzel’s departure.
“Where else would I go?” Claire gave me a
questioning look, softly squeezing my hand.
“Well,” I started, caressing her knuckles with
my thumb. “I was thinking ye could come to my place – just while ye heal.” I
added hurriedly, trying not to sound desperate and possessive. “My mind wouldna
be at ease if ye were alone in her house, almost empty as it is, with no one to
look after ye.”
“If you’re sure.” She raised a brow and smiled.
“I can be quite the handful.”
“I am.” I breathed out, trying to control the
emotions that seemed to ran so close to the surface, exposed and rampant, after
her injury. “Bad things seem to happen when we’re apart. I want ye close to me –
I want to care for ye, mo ghraidh.”
“It’s settled, then.” Claire grabbed by hand
and pulled me in for a rewarding kiss. “You’ll be my private nurse.”
She had protested, assuring me she was quite capable of climbing up the stairs
to my apartment – but I saw the effort everything required of her, even
standing or laughing too hard – and carried her in my arms, only letting go
when I laid her down on my bed.
After helping her change into some comfortable pyjamas,
I contentedly sat by the bedroom window, grading some tests from my students,
while she took a nap. Once in a while I stopped, my eyes drifting to her,
reassuring myself she dreamt within my reach.
I cooked us a simple dinner – roasted chicken
with basil and tomatoes, aromatic and homely – and helped her to lay down
again, determined to find a place in the sofa or on the floor, where I could
sleep close to her without disturbing her.
“Will you sleep next to me?” She asked softly,
her brown curls and hawk eyes almost the only visible thing inside the cocoon
of quilts I had made around her. “I’d sleep better with you beside me.”
“Aye.” I replied in a husky voice, easing
myself under the covers next to her with gentleness, trying not to disturb her
with my movements – the idea of causing her any pain made my stomach churn.
I placed an arm around her, reassuring her of
my presence – mindful not to put too much pressure over her or to touch her
scar. For a time we laid silent, aware of each other’s presence, discovering
the intimacy of a bed shared in darkness.
We had been so once before – but at that time
she had been devastated, wrecked like a ship after an unforgiving storm, and I
had offered her security, a presence of someone who loved her without any
demands. I remembered how I had stayed awake, memorizing her until I could
recreate her in my heart - believing I’d never see her again, much less hold
her in my arms. I wondered if she too recalled that night, when I had offered
her the knowledge of my feelings, in the hope that she could use them to heal –
and she had.
she wasn’t sleeping – I’d spent every day and night for the last weeks watching
her sleep, until I knew the cadence of her breathing, the comes and goings of
her dreams, like a second nature of my own.
She trashed about a little, fidgeting with
bedclothes and adjusting her body on the mattress – always laying on her left
side, wishing to avoid the tenderness of her upper right quadrant – slowly searching
for the contact of my body behind hers, sheltering her like a cloak, two halves
finally falling into place.
I waited for her to speak, painfully aware of
the desires of my body, feeling her soft arse wedged between my thighs – yet completely
restrained by the will of the woman who ruled me.
A hand came up in the darkness and she placed
it gently on my hip.
“I want you.” Claire whispered, almost sobbing.
“I need you, Jamie.”
“Are ye sure?” I asked in a husky voice, my fingertips
brushing her face, tracing her lips to find truth in her words in the absence
of sight. “I dinna want to hurt ye. I’d die if I hurt ye, mo nighean donn.”
“You could never hurt me.” She replied softly,
caressing the length of my thigh. “I can’t breathe while we’re apart. I must
have you – please, Jamie.”
I didn’t try to dissuade her again, even afraid
as I was that it was too soon, too hazardous. I knew all too well the hunger
that moved her towards me, starved for life when death had come so close, when
it seemed that each moment could be the last. We had lost and found each other
in the past, time and again – it seemed that while we were one flesh, one body, parting us would be
impossible. While we were in each other, life – and death – was an
afterthought, a remote threat, to which we were immune while moving as one.
I moved impossibly slowly, wishing to give her
enough space to retrocede at any time, baring us of as many clothes as possible.
I kissed the back of her neck, delighted in the small shivers of her skin next
to mine, the testament of her arousal in her hardened nipples. I caressed her
body with a worshiping hand, taking time at each new discovery that made her
moan and hiss in pleasure.
When I thought her ready – desperately pressing
herself against me while clawing at my hair – I held her thigh with a light
hand and raised her, slightly folding my legs, so I could enter her. I rocked
calmly with her body nestled against mine, letting her command the pace while I
carried all the weight of her movements.
“I love you”. She whispered – moaned - tilting her head to kiss my
lips. “Jamie.” I felt the moistness
of her cheeks mixed with mine, tears of a joy long forsaken, exploding between
us with enough force to leave us gasping, deeply moved.
It didn’t take long – I knew she was still
weak, stubborn and lustful as she might have been. When I felt her tire in my
arms, my hand came around her hips to delicately touch her in time with our
movements, smiling as she cried out my name.
Afterwards, I held her against me, my hand
brushing the dressing on her belly to make sure everything was in place –
feeling the comforting thump of our hearts beating together, close enough to be
inside the same chest.
“I was right.” She murmured on the verge of
sleep, surrendering to my keeping once more. “Nothing hurts when you love me.”
Requested by @bandanabrunette : Could you do a Reader x Sam where the reader was at Stanford studying medicine but he only comes to know this after something happens on a hunt where she has to use her knowledge to save the day.
Summary: Dean gets shot on the hunt and Reader recognizes what’s going on with him. But will they make it to the hospital or will the reader have to act on their own?
Word Count: 1635
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Warnings/Tags: Reader’s gender ISN’T specified, mentions of blood, hurt!Dean (gunshot wound), medical language (but everything’s explained), some angst, fluff, hospitals
A/N: It’s crazy, but it’s the first full Sam x Reader fic I’ve ever written, previously there were only drabbles ;) (And Sammy needs more love, so I’m happy I got that request!) Hope you’re gonna like it, guys!
If you want to be tagged/untagged in everything or only some stuff, simply let me know or add yourself to this tag sheet! (Tags at the bottom of the post, those that are crossed out mean that Tumblr didn’t let me tag you.)
Feedback very welcome and highly appreciated. Feel free to check out my Masterlist if this piece leaves you wanting more :)
“Y/N, look out!” Sam shouted and you turned attention to your left, freezing in spot once you saw the werewolf aiming at you with the gun you had dropped earlier.
Before you had a chance to dodge the bullet, Dean jumped in front of you, a scream of pain escaping his mouth as he got hit.
Sam immediately shot the werewolf in the heart, then he fired another and another one. The creature fell to the floor seconds after Dean did, and you stumbled forward, trying to assess the damage that Dean suffered from.
The entry wound was located on the left side of his stomach, right in between his two lowest ribs, and you prayed it missed all the important arteries and organs. His grey T-shirt was getting more and more red with every passing minute and you applied pressure to the wound, apologising for causing Dean pain when your action made him hiss.
(I’m on mobile, so don’t hate me for doing a Submit!! React or blurb, whatever your beautiful mind comes up with! But I had to do something with The Hat. For so many obvious reasons.)
Tears poured down your face. Suddenly, your phone began to vibrate. A FaceTime from Jensen. You debated for a moment before answering it; tears closed your throat and you couldn’t even get a “hey” out.
“Okay, all right…” Jensen said, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong Darling?”
“He… Jensen.. He.. Dead!” You sobbed, searching for a tissue as you attempted to catch your breath.
“Who?!” Jensen gasped. “Do you need me to come home? Who died Y/N?”
“D-D-Derek! …and then the ferryboat scrub cap and..and…” You broke down again as Jensen’s face turned from concern to disdain.
“Derek. From Grey’s. Y/N, you’ve watched that show through HOW many times? It doesn’t change…”
Claire sat in the wide bench at the hospital’s
locker room, her ears filled with a high bleeping sound, the voices around her
as distant and foreign as creatures of the bottom of the deepest ocean. Her
eyes were fixed on her silver ring – the flesh underneath it raw and reddened
after hours of nervously twisting it on her finger, akin to a prisoner fighting
a shackle turned life raft.
“What happened to you?” A shadow extended next
to her and she blankly stared above, watching as one of her colleagues, Joe
Abernathy, frowned as he looked at her.
“Nothing.” She croaked, her tongue feeling
ridiculously dry and furred after hours of screams and sobs in the seclusion of
her apartment, followed by a prolonged silence.
“Hmpf.” He vocalized in a doubtful tone. “Ye
look more like everything happened,
than nothing. Do you want to grab a cup of coffee, Fraser? Or a bucket?”
“Don’t call me that!” She hissed, tears
stinging her eyes – Claire tried to keep them forcefully opened, to avoid
overflowing. “Claire. Just Claire.”
“Alright.” He said more softly, sitting next to
her. His dark skin deeply contrasted with her own, made even more marble white
than usual by fatigue and heartbreak.
wasn’t exactly a friend – but he was one of the few colleagues who had shown
her compassion and camaraderie, never taking a chance to shine that implied to
throw another resident under the proverbial bus. He was always nice and they
exchanged pleasantries every time the occasion called for words between them –
but Claire had been too busy daydreaming about Jamie for the past few months,
to really dedicate herself to the task of establishing a fulfilling friendship.
I don’t want you anymore. Claire
mechanically pressed the ring against her raw finger, welcoming the pain that
kept her grounded to the present.
“You know what?” Joe slapped his big hands
against his knees, covered with blue scrubs. “I think I have just the thing you
need. A nasty Whipple procedure in OR two in twenty minutes. What do you say?”
“I can’t take your surgery, Joe. You earned
that with your hard work assisting Doctor Raymond on that hemorrhoidectomy.”
Claire shook her head, crumpling her surgical cap.
“You need to cut, Lady Jane.” He smiled with
kindness. “People can say whatever they want, but I know a surgeon when I see
one – and you’re it. Once you have the blade in your hand, you’ll be able to
forget – or at least to push to the outskirts of your mind – whatever is bothering
you so much. On the off-chance that
doesn’t work, you can always pretend you’re cutting the face of whoever hurt
Claire breathed deeply – the smell of deodorant
and foot powder a soothing presence, reassuring her that some things were still
the same. She had come to the hospital almost in the middle of the night for it
– trying to leave the wreckage of her life behind the closed door of her apartment
- only to discover that the destruction had found a cranny whereby it could
enter her body, taking hold of her like a parasite with an innocent host.
If only she could shed her entire body with its
memories, like a blessed snake, perhaps she could morph into something else.
Freedom. Forgetfulness. Painless
breathing again. But she was only allowed blue scrubs, with matching cap and
mask – they would have to serve that purpose.
“If you’re sure.” She said hesitantly. “I’ll
try not to disturb you too much.”
“Nonsense.” He clapped, ecstatic. You’ll do
just fine. Don’t overthink it.”
“Alright.” Claire raised from the bench to tie
her black sneakers. Make a loop. Tie it
harder. Breathe. As she prepared to walk beside him, she wrinkled her nose
in confusion in his direction. “Who
the hell is Lady Jane?”
Edinburgh, Present day
“You’re awake.” Claire greeted, entering his
room and seeing him half-sited, reclined against a pile of pillows, doing
exercises with his hand. “It’s late, but I was quite busy today – a couple of
patients from the fire needed to be re-interventioned for some complications.”
“That’s alright.” Jamie gave her a shy smile.
“I dinna expect ye to come at all, so it’s a nice surprise.”
“I hear they are offering you a medal for your
brave conduct while on duty.” She said in an attempt of conversational tone,
sitting on a chair by his bed. “Just saw two grown men sobbing their eyes out
while coming here, talking about how Chief Fraser is a goddam hero and saved
“Well,” He replied, slightly shrugging his
shoulders in a blatant sign of discomfort. “I don’t feel like a hero. More like
“Hm.” She snorted in outspoken agreement.
“Can’t really challenge that. How is your hand?”
“Rigid. Tender.” Jamie grimaced, showing her
the bandaged hand with just the tip of the fingers visible. “But hopefully, in
time, I’ll be able to wipe my own arse with it.”
The corners of her mouth almost formed a smile,
but she hurriedly commanded them to stop. Almost.
He used to make her smile all the time, effortlessly - and it seemed like
the wheels and screws of her body still remembered that easy mechanism.
“Claire…” He started in a pleading tone.
“Why do you still wear your wedding ring,
Jamie?” Claire anticipated in a low voice. “We have been divorced for almost
ten years – and you took away its
meaning even before that.”
“Don’t ye know?” He replied in a soft tone, as
his fingers dutifully played with the small exercise rubber ball.
“How would I
know?” She said, anger bringing an edge to her words. “You told me you didn’t want me anymore. That you had someone else
you wanted to be with – I expected to find you remarried with a proper Scottish
wife, a handful of children around your bed. And yet there’s no wife around to
fluff your pillows and put jelly in the mouth of her valiant husband.”
He tilted his head, as if he was embarrassed by
her words. “I had my reasons to say that.”
“Let’s hear them, then.” She crossed her arms
and looked impatiently at him. “I believe you owe me at least the curtsy of the
Jamie nodded and for a moment his eyes seemed
lost in contemplation of something invisible, pages of their story turning
backwards until he could find the appropriate chapter and the words to tell it.
When he talked again, his voice was quick and low, slightly ragged.
“Ye were failing.” He looked at her as if
urging her to understand. “Ye told me that yourself. Everything ye had worked
so hard to accomplish was turning into smoke.” Jamie clenched his jaw. “I knew
it was because of me – my fault. When
ye met me, I changed the course of yer life. Ye were torn – distracted. I had
to do something.”
“What?” Claire whispered, the world slightly
tilting around her like a bizarre attraction in an amusement park. “Tell me,
Jamie – What did you do?”
“How does a man wilfully rip his heart out of
his chest? What madness can drive ye to do such a thing?” He whispered, as if
to himself, before he glanced at her. “Not madness – love. I found I could do it, as long as I knew ye safe and well.”
“I don’t understand.” She babbled - but
realization was slowly dawning on her, brutal and consuming as wildfire,
leaving her shaking like a burnt leaf on the wind.
“I already knew what I needed to do.” Jamie
nodded, immersed on his tale – finally able to share his terrible truth, a numbing
dart to the poisonous beast that sat on his chest. “I made the decision the
night we spoke on the phone – promised to myself I’d do it when I went to visit
ye. But I couldn’t!” He closed his healthy hand on a fist, his body trembling
from strong emotion. “I was weak. I couldna stop myself from loving ye again
and again – knowing I couldna lie to yer body; swearing every time I touched ye
would be the last. One last day of happiness – one last memory I could hold on
Claire was openly crying by then, tears
silently falling across her cheeks, witnesses of two broken hearts bleeding
together into the world.
“I went to see Doctor Raymond one afternoon.”
Jamie gulped. “I was hoping there might be another way. But he confirmed what I
already knew – he told me ye were a natural healer, a potential brilliant
surgeon, if ye were allowed to focus solely on that. He promised he would take
care of you.” He finished softly.
“You told me you didn’t want me!” Claire
repeated, lips quivering, her amber eyes open in shock.
“I thought I’d die from saying it. But
ultimately I would say that and much worse, Claire.” He affirmed, his blue eyes
moist but defiant. “I would deny God himself and Jesus on the cross for yer
sake. I would disown my own heart and lungs. There’s no limit for what I’d do
for ye to have peace, mo nighean donn.”
“It was not your choice to make!” She sobbed,
slightly rocking herself on the chair. “My
life, James Fraser. My fucking life. Our
“Aye.” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his
hand. “It is that. But I canna say I regret it, Claire. Joe told me how many
people you saved just today – how every young surgeon looks up to you now. It
seems to me I made the right choice.”
“You don’t know a thing…” Claire hissed. “About
what I went through. I barely made it…I was barely sane.” Her voice sounded
like a woman drowning even to her own ears. “You wouldn’t even see me to sign
the divorce papers, you sent Ned Gowan in your place…”
“I never said I wasna a coward.” Jamie
admitted, slightly tilting his head. “I dinna trust myself not to fall on my
knees and beg yer forgiveness. To tell ye right there and then of my wicked
ways. To kiss ye and never let go. I hoped…” His voice broke. “You’d never have
to see me again.”
“I thought you were in love with someone else.”
Claire sobbed, closing her eyes to block the sight of his face, grimacing in
pain. “I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing you laying with a faceless
woman, whom you’d say everything you once said to me. Listening all your
promises turning into lies.”
“There was never another woman.” He whispered,
tears falling down his lashes. “There could never be another woman, Claire. I
still wore yer wedding ring because – papers or no – I will forever be married
to ye. I will always love ye, mo
“I could never forgive you for this…” Claire
entwined her hands, like a silent prayer for the ability to retrieve what had
been lost between them. “You took away my choice. You traded our love for
something I never wanted. You decided for us both.”
“Aye.” He swallowed hard – his voice hoarse and
broken beyond repair. “But can ye honestly say I was wrong in thinking that
this is the woman ye were meant to become? That by letting ye go I wasna in
fact loving ye more than I ever could be keeping ye?” Jamie closed his eyes,
whispering. “Mine are the sins of a lover. Ye were given to me, Claire – and I
loved ye well.”
Here is the latest part of my Heartlines AU story. I hope you all enjoy it.
The rest of the chapters (and my other work) can be found here
As always I’d love to know what you think.
She opened the door and Jamie was speechless. Claire was always beautiful, more than beautiful, but looking at her right now he simply could not formulate thoughts into speech. She wore a tight fitted black sequinned gown with a high neck and capped sleeves. A slit ran up one side revealing an expanse of creamy leg and strappy silver sandals. But her head was the biggest shock. Normally Claire favoured natural looking makeup, muted tones in browns and greys, her hair either haphazardly restrained or a riot of curls which grazed her shoulders. But today she looked entirely different, her whiskey coloured eyes looked even more tigerish with an application of flicked up eyeliner and her lips were an enticing cranberry red. Her hair, normally such a riot, fell in sleek, smooth waves down to her breasts. She looked at him shyly. “What do you think?” She gave him a little swirl revealing a low back. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly and she laughed. “Oh good, you like it!” He watched her sashay down the path towards the waiting car, swallowing audibly.
The event was a combination of wealthy donors, local businessmen and hospital staff. As it happened, because of this Jamie knew at least as many people as Claire and he was kept more than busy shaking hands, answering queries about Lallybroch and talking shop. Claire moved round the room, chatting, smiling and generally trying to encourage the great and good in attendance to cough up some money to help refurb the ailing pediatrics wing. Prior to choosing General Surgery Claire had rotated through the department and had been sorely tempted by a career in that speciality. As it was she had gone another way, but she was often called upon by the department when a general surgeon was needed and she had campaigned passionately for the wing in its bid to upgrade its facilities. Jamie watched her work the room. Her smile was simply radiant. He was struck again by his sheer fortune that such a wonderful woman was his. His pride in her and her achievements was endless and to see her here, tonight, amongst her peers, he thought his heart would burst with it. He lost sight of her for a moment and he scanned the room, his height giving his an advantage. She popped up beside him holding two glasses of champagne. “I managed to charm these out the waiter. He didn’t want to give me any as they are having terrible trouble rounding everyone up to go into dinner” Her face was flushed slightly from the champagne and it gave her a glow that made her look even more lovely. She hooked an arm through his. “I forgot to ask. What happened to the kilt I was promised?” Instead of the aforementioned kilt, Jamie was wearing a bright blue three piece suit. Single breasted with a sharp white shirt and blue tie he looked magnificent amongst the sea of black tuxedos, his red hair and towering height making him stand out even further. “Well, the last time I wore a kilt to an event like this I spent half the night bein’ asked what I wore underneath it an’ the other half fending off women tryna find out for themselves. I figured I’d save myself the bother this time” he laughed. “Are ye disappointed?”
“Well, a little bit,” she answered tilting her head to one side to look at him. “But on the other hand you look sexy as hell in that suit, so I can’t complain too much can I?” She gave him a lewd wink which made them both laugh and he drew her to him and kissed her on her forehead.
“And you, Mo Nighean Donn,” He said, “I canna begin to say how wonderful you look. Ye’re always the most beautiful woman in the room, but tonight, well, I keep having to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.” Her colour heightened a little more, but her response was cut off by the the boom of the ever jocular chief of surgery.
“Claire, Claire. I hardly recognised you without your scrubs and cap! Isn’t it fun trying to spot everyone in their civvies?”
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and she turned to introduce Jamie. He shook Jamie’s hand warmly.
“This is Dr Grant, our chief, this is Jamie, my…” she paused slightly as she cast around for the right title. They’d only know each other three weeks and whilst what they had was clearly serious, they’d not yet gotten round to defining it in any way. “…my partner” she settled for, looking at Jamie meaningfully.
“Partner,” he thought “Aye, that’ll do for now, but one day…”
This thought was abruptly cut short, by Dr Grant turing behind him and pulling forward a couple about Jamie and Claire’s age. “This is my nephew, David.” He said smiling broadly, “He’s a property developer. And this is his fiancee, Geneva.”
Jamie felt the heat rise in his face and Claire coughed slightly as she took a too big gulp of champagne. Geneva’s chestnut hair was swept back from her face and she wore a flowing tulle gown with a slight princess skirt in a soft blush pink. She also wore a very large, if conventional, diamond which she had not been wearing the last time the three of them had come face to face. She looked ethereal and stunning. She also looked uncomfortable and embarrassed, clearly not enjoying this impromptu reunion any more than Claire and Jamie. David, a handsome man, with dark hair a soft brown eyes, also appeared somewhat discomfited by this meeting. He may or may not have been aware of the show down in Jamie’s living room, but it was obvious he knew who Jamie was. He moved slightly closer to Geneva, placing a hand around her waist. Claire recovered herself first.
“Oh how lovely. And what a beautiful ring. Have you set a date?” The corner of Geneva’s mouth lifted slightly as she answered. “Oh, not yet, but we’re hoping for next summer. We only got engaged last week, didn’t we darling?’ She turned to David. “Oh, yes, just last week” he replied. Dr Grant laughed loudly digging poor David in the side. “But how many times did ye have to ask the lass? What was it four times before she finally said yes to you?” David smiled blandly, Jamie developed an acute interest in the pattern on the carpet. Thankfully the waiting staff took that moment to get assertive and they were promptly rounded up and herded into the ballroom.
Fortunately, Dr Grant’s table was over near the front of the room, whilst Jamie and Claire, along with a host of other hospital staff were tucked away near the back.
“Keeping us hidden” said Geillis, archly, flipping red hair over her shoulder. “But still, least we’re much nearer the bar here” She waved a red nailed hand in the direction of a waiter beckoning him over. Next to her, her new boyfriend, Josh sat looking slightly bemused and very much under her spell. Jamie was thrilled to at last have a chance to meet all the friends that Claire had regaled him with stories of. Her friend Joe Abernathy, who had transferred here from Boston, the indomitable Mrs Fitz, who despite clearly having a first name, no one called anything else, including her husband a jocular highlander with a big laugh who had clearly not suffered the same concerns as Jamie as he wore a kilt in eye catching MacKenzie tartan. Timid little Mary who spoke quietly but after a few drinks it turned out had a fondness for rude jokes and a huge dirty laugh. These were the people who he knew were important to Claire. As someone with no blood ties, this was the closest she had to real family and he was acutely aware of what it meant that she had wanted him here, with her and them tonight. The night was a lot more fun than he had expected. He found that he had an easy rapport with Claire’s friends who made him welcome, and with the exception of Geillis, who Claire had warned him about, none of them felt the need to grill him too intently. They danced until Claire begged for mercy, her high heels finally getting the better of her. Moving off to the side he drew her close and kissed her deeply. “Shall we go home now, Mo Nighean Donn?” he murmured into her ear.
“Oh yes” she replied. “I might not be getting the chance to find out what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, but I’m still pretty interested in what might be going on under that suit” She tugged his earlobe gently with her teeth and he gave a shudder. “I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then we’ll leave”
He waited across the hall for Claire, fiddling with his phone. A blur of pink caught the corner of his eye as the statuesque figure of his ex wife strode purposefully into the bathroom in which Claire had just entered.
Claire had been in there for a while. So had Geneva. He’d seen David go by looking for her, but offered no information. He stared at the door willing it to open and for Claire to come out. He couldn’t hear any shouting. Or screaming. That was something he supposed. Surely if something terrible was happening he’d hear it. But still what were they both doing in there. The door opened and Geneva exited, catching Jamie’s eyes briefly. He tried to make out the expression behind them, but she was gone too quickly. Another minute later, the door opened again this time bringing Claire with it.
Jamie’s eyebrows were almost under his hairline. “And what was that about? Should I be worried? She’s no been telling you what a terrible man I am has she?”
Claire laughed at Jamie was surprised to feel his heart and stomach both unclench a little. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you everything”
She sat facing him on the sofa in her living room. She’d kicked off her heels in the hall and her hair was starting to kink slightly.
“Well, I don’t think you need to be too concerned with Geneva from now on Jamie. We had a good chat and I think things are going to be ok on that front.”
“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? We’ve been seperated for over 4 years and she turned up at my house because she’d heard I’d been kissing someone. She’s no exactly rational.”
“No really, Jamie. Just listen”
As Claire had stepped out of the cubicle she had walked straight into Geneva. Dodging round her to wash her hands, she had become aware of the fact that Geneva was clearly there to speak with her. She waited for a beat.
“C..Claire?” Geneva began unsteadily, clearly searching for the words. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For the other day. It was, it was… unacceptable.” Claire opened her mouth to respond but Geneva raised her hand imploring to be allowed to continue. Claire nodded.
“Jamie was right. It was pride. I was so angry with him. For so long. I felt cheated by him. When we got married I wanted it to be a certain way. But it wasn’t. So I tried to change him. To make him into what I wanted him to be, rather than simply accepting that he wasn’t what I wanted any more than I was what he wanted. And he, being the honourable man he is left. He couldn’t live a lie, he couldn’t be less than his true self. And I was so angry. For almost 5 years it’s eaten away at me. He’s the only thing I’ve ever failed at. That I haven’t been able to bend to my will as it were. And so I couldn’t let go. Even after I met David, who is everything I was looking for in my marriage to Jamie and couldn’t find, I still didn’t let go. I didn’t let Jamie go. I knew, deep down that he would feel the weight of the failure of our marriage whether it was his fault or not and I used that to hurt him. Whilst I was living my life and being happy elsewhere, and Jamie was right about that, David does make me happy, I kept on punishing him. And all because I couldn’t admit failure. When my friend called me and told me she’d seen the two of you. I don’t know what came over me. It was like all the anger and bitterness of the last four years were just poured over my head. I wanted to rip my skin off with it. But I saw then , the way he looked at you. The way he never, ever looked at me. But I do have someone who looks at me like that. David has been asking me to marry him for years and I’ve always said no. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t bear for Jamie to feel like he had permission to move on. And I’m sorry. I’m so very fucking sorry.” The profanity seemed out of place coming out of the mouth of one so perfectly coiffed and softly spoken. She seemed a different person to the wild eyed, object flinging woman of only a few weeks earlier. She looked at her hands and adjusted her ring.
“Tell Jamie.” She looked Claire in the eye. “Tell him I’m sorry. For all of it. And that I wish him… I wish him joy.” Claire nodded slowly and Geneva smiled, tears in her eyes. Claire unthinkingly reached out a hand and Geneva took it squeezing her fingers slightly. She nodded stiffly and in turned and was gone in a swish of pink tulle and chanel No 5. Claire stood there for a moment, wondering if that had really happened. She took a deep breath and went back to join Jamie.
“So she really said all that?’ Jamie asked incredulous. He had known Geneva a long time and whilst he knew she did have her virtues he wasn’t sure magnanimity had ever been one of them.
“She did” Claire replied nodding. “Whether she meant it, I guess only time will tell, but she seemed genuine” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can put it behind us though. I’m glad that *you* can move on with your life now.
“Aye, aye I can” he met her eyes and held her gaze, reaching for her hand as he did so. “And I so what you to be part of that life, Claire. Next weekend, I ken ye’re off work until Wednesday, will ye come to the Highlands wi me? To Lallybroch?” Nerves were making his accent thicker.
“Jamie, I honestly cannot think of a nicer way to spend my time off.” He smiled a smile of such joy that he looked, for a moment like a small boy. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “But right now I want to find out what a scotsman wears under his suit.”
A/N: If you want to be tagged just let me know!! Feedback is always loved.
Rule One of being a doctor, don’t get over attached to your patients. Well that rules been broken. Rule Two of being a doctor, don’t date your patients. But what if he has blue eyes and a killer smile that make your insides throw a dance party when he’s near you?? Rule Three of being a doctor, don’t ever loose focus on doing your job, nothing comes between you and your career. See comment above… was the smile mentioned? Or that he’s Captain America?
“And I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life.”
It’s indescribable. The fear in the pit of her stomach she’d felt all evening. Something telling her that something was desperately wrong. And no matter how many hours she’d spent trying to work out exactly what it was, she’d been left in the dark. Completely unable to settle the nervous feeling and wondering why the hell she constantly wanted to throw up. And why her hands seemed to ache to touch her wife.
She just, she wanted to see her. To find her, to run her fingers through her blonde hair and gently run a finger down a dimpled cheek. She wanted to run her hands along the body she had come to know better than her own and find a comforting familiarity in soft pink lips pressed against her own.
It’s not that it was unusual for her to miss Arizona. Callie had often found herself quite literally craving the closeness of her wife and it was something that warmed her heart when she’d learned Arizona was just the same. Tonight though, something was off. Just plain wrong. The need to see her, to hear her voice and just touch some part of the other woman to ground herself, it was near unbearable.
And that’s why she found herself on the peds ward, eyes scouting for something, someone, her Arizona.
Callie quickly turns on her heels and lets out a deep breath, closing the short distance between them and wrapping her arms around her wife.
“I’ve calmed down now Callie, you didn’t have to come check on me.” Arizona mimicked her though, fingers gripping at the back of her wife’s scrub coat and telling Callie everything she needed to know.
“I know, I do know. I just needed to see you. I’ll miss you tonight.” Damn Boise. And damn Karev. Damn him to hell.
Arizona’s smile was futile but she offered one anyway, fingers gently tucking brown hair behind an ear, “I’ll miss you too, Calliope. Kiss Sof’ for me.”
Nodding, Callie kisses her forehead, lingering for as long as she can, “I love you.”
“I love you, too”
She thought that would be enough, she really did. But scrubbing in for her next surgery and still everything just felt wrong. And finally, the word formed in her mind and settled in her chest and she understood. It was dread. All evening, even after finding Arizona, she’d been filled with dread. But whatever she was dreading, how could she stop it when she has no idea what it was?
Callie pulls her scrub cap from her hair and throws it to the floor, groaning in frustration. She can feel unwanted tears sitting on her lashes and she just wishes she could understand what her body was trying to tell her.
Fingers fumbling around, she quickly pulls out her pager and finds someone to take over, unable to take someone’s life in her hands while feeling so unstable. While feeling like the world is going to crumble around her she’ll be all that remains.
“Left leg amputation, the patient is a 36 year old female, brought in after a car crash.” She nods at the surgeon before pushing hard on the door, walking out and taking in as much air as possible.
It’s not enough. Nothing seems to be enough. She checks her watch and groans, a stream of words she’d never say in front of Sofia leaving her lips.
Before she can think about it, her feet are moving of their own accord. She barley knows where they’re taking her but she knows where she’ll end up. The same place she always ends up.
“Arizona! Arizona wait.” She pushes through the crowd of surgeons, her friends, her family, about to head off for a life changing surgery.
"Please don’t go.”
Eyebrows furrow in confusion and Arizona sighs quietly, “what? Callie it’s one night-”
"I know. I know that, I do. And I know you’re angry and pissed at Karev and you want to punish him or whatever and I actually get that, I do.” Callie grabs her wife’s hand and pulls her closer, using her other hand to hold Arizona’s chin so their eyes meet in some bid to share whatever it is that’s going on with her, “I just need you not to go. I don’t know why, I can’t explain it but something’s wrong, Arizona. Something’s wrong and I want you to stay with me, I need you to stay with me and with Sofia. Please. Don’t get on that plane.”
Arizona watches her wife, the anxiety obvious in her wide, tearful brown eyes. She doesn’t understand what’s happening but honestly, she’s absolutely exhausted. She’s hurting, she’s miserable and she’s exhausted. She’s good at running. She’s run all her life. She’s even run from Callie. But now? Running doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Not when she could go home with her wife and daughter and just… just be. Just breath and just be.
"Karev!” The young surgeon is just leaving the hospital, making his way to his car and he frowns, not in the mood for another lecture, “screw up this surgery and I swear you’ll never work in this hospital or any other til the day I die,” she shoves the folders in his arms without another word and slips her hand into her wife’s. They need to pick up their daughter and go home.
And that’s what they do.
Callie shudders and fights off another wave of tears. She doesn’t know how to breathe, what to think, what to feel. Because yesterday had been something she knew she’d treasure forever. Waking up in the post love making glow with her still naked wife, so wrapped up in each other, skin clammy and sweaty and pressed together in the most intimate of ways. Arizona had opened up to her in ways she never really had before and somehow she loved her even more. She would forever be grateful that she had stayed when she’d ask. Phoning in sick from work and spending the day with her two girls had been the icing on the cake. Until the phone call.
And then dread had turned to realisation.
Because Arizona’s plane had fallen from the sky and now they were lost. Lost presumed dead.
But Arizona wasn’t on it. Because she had been sitting across from her at the table, too caught up in feeding their daughter to even notice Callie’s face fall. She was making aeroplane noises and grinning widely at her baby’s smiles and oh god, it was almost too ironic.
When Callie had put the phone down, she’d pulled Arizona up from her seat and clutched her checks and ran her hands through her hair and almost collapsed against her as she’d tried to take in every ounce of her wife.
“You’re here,” she had whispered, “oh my god, you’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe. I love you, I love you so much. Your plane fell out of the sky but you’re here. You’re okay.”
And now, the blonde sleeps beside her, as equally naked as she had been last night. Both had felt the need, through tears and declarations of love and need and want, to just feel. And so they’d felt.
Tomorrow, tomorrow they’d talk about the guilt and the fear and utter disbelief. Tomorrow, they would talk. But now?
Callie rolled over gently, an arm wrapping around Arizona and pulling her against her front, nose nestling into the back of her neck.
Because she is here and she is okay. And that is so much more than enough.