wow ct had long hair what would that have looked like

Stay With Me - Dick Grayson x Reader (Heartlines Soulmate AU)

(A/N: Sorry if the medical stuff is incorrect, I don’t really know anything about medicine.)

Heartlines had always fascinated you. As a child, you had wanted to become a matchmaker from the minute you started seeing them, to be a person who helped others find the soulmate at the end of their string. Alas, life had led you down a different path; one that had landed you in the Bludhaven ER you currently work in. Being a trauma surgeon was, among other things, time-consuming, leaving you with much more important things to do than trying to follow your heartline. Work was a major part of your busy life, and you had no intentions of finding your soulmate anytime soon- but fate had other plans.

“Y/N, I know you just got your break, but we need you. Motorcycle collision, the victim is coming in now. He has lacerations and severe bruising on his arms, legs, and face, as well as suspected trauma to the head. Potential internal bleeding and organ damage. Overall, it could be worse, but it’s not pretty,” a nurse informed you, handing you a file. You glanced over it, setting down your unfinished coffee before standing. Richard Grayson, the adopted son of Gotham’s Bruce Wayne.

“No helmet, naturally. Alright, it’s go time, then.” You started towards the ambulance bay, trying to ignore that fact that your heartline was heading in the same direction. A stretcher rushed in to meet you.

“Dr. L/N?” one of the paramedics asked you. You nodded your reply, focusing on the patient. Your heart stopped when you realized the string in his chest connected to your own.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you said. The paramedics pushing the stretcher turned to you, alarmed.

“What is it?” a younger woman asked.

“My soulmate,” you answered, voice more strained than you desired, “is lying on this stretcher. Now let’s move. We need to assess the damage done to his head and spine and check for internal bleeding. There’s a good chance that he’s concussed, as well. He’ll need a CT scan… can somebody go get that prepped?” You threw yourself into your work, trying to not be phased when the man let out a pained moan as he was moved onto a new stretcher.

“Check for any neurosurgeons on call. We’ll need them after the CT,” you directed a nurse. You checked the patient over.

“Heart rate is slightly elevated, which is to be expected. Normal heartbeat and breathing. Bruising on the chest is indicative of broken ribs, and…” you announced.

“Dr. L/N, the CT is prepped. Is the patient ready to be taken in?” a nurse asked, cutting you off.

“Yes, now let’s get this done.” You wheeled his stretcher up to the door, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness that overcame you when the radiologist took over. He’s my soulmate, for God’s sake, is there anything else I can do now? Christ, Richard, you’ve really gotten yourself in deep… You noticed a bit of a commotion at a nurse’s station.

“Is he alive? Oh, god, I hope he’s alive,” a blonde girl said, clutching furiously onto the hand of a dark-haired boy. The nurse looked stressed, to say the least.

“Can you at least tell us where he is at the moment?” a man asked. You realized that he was Bruce Wayne.

“If you are referring to a Mr. Richard Grayson, he is currently undergoing a CT scan, which unfortunately does not allow him to be visited at the moment. As for your previous question, he is alive, and we are doing our best to keep him that way,” you told them.

“Do you know the extent of his injuries yet?” The question came from the boy, who you assumed to be Tim Drake.

“Not fully, no. We won’t until the radiologist provides us with the results of the CT scan. We suspect though, that he is suffering from a concussion and potential brain damage as well as potential internal bleeding,” you answered. The blonde girl spoke again.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” You bit your lip.

“Until we know exactly how much damage there is, I won’t be able to make a good judgment. But I sincerely hope so.”

“Dr. L/N!” a nurse interjected. “The scan is finished and the results are in with the radiologist. What now?” You started walking briskly back towards the trauma center.

“Let’s clean and bind the external wounds. With accidents like this, lacerations tend to have pavement and gravel inside, so be sure to be thorough. Set him up on a heart monitor if we haven’t already; we won’t take any drastic actions until the results get back unless we encounter a threatening problem with his vitals,” you directed. This is going to be a painfully long wait.


You studied the CT results, pleased to see only minor injuries to the head and spine. What worried you, though, was the bleeding in his abdomen.

“Get four pints of O- blood and an anesthetist, and prep an operating room. We need to drain the excess blood and stop the source of the bleeding, but we need to be prepared for a blood transfusion.” As you prepared for the operation, you felt a new kind of anxiety than usual.  

“Hey, Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out? I mean, he’s your soulmate after all, are you certain you can handle this?” your fellow surgeon asked you. You nodded.

“The exact reason I wouldn’t complete this surgery is the exact reason I have to. No matter what, I have to know that I did something, that I tried,” you replied. When the operation began, you lost yourself into the procedures. The first part went seamlessly, you were able to remove the excess blood and stop the blood flow from his liver, which had been damaged in the accident. But a fast-paced beeping started sounding, an ominous alarm that something had gone wrong.

“He’s going into hypovolemic shock,” another surgeon announced. You immediately hooked up another pint of blood to his arm. He’d lost too much blood.

“Come on, stay with me, stay with me,” you begged, desperately hoping that the blood transfusion could save him.

“Y/N, go get some fresh air. We’ll take it from here,” someone told you. You weren’t really listening, but stepped out of the room. Your plea repeated over and over in your head: stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. You looked down at your heartline, unsure of what you would do if it faded to black. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me.

Just a cough, right?

Trade! This is Jamilton this time and I feel like I did good, this is angst too.

Thomas sat in the Emergency room as he waited his results. As of lately he had troubles breathing and had a persistant cough that didn’t want to let him be. He laid back in the bed and closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, causing him to nervously tap his foot. He kept his eyes on the door to the Emergency Room, each time it opened he felt his heart drop but was hit with relief when it wasn’t his boyfriends familiar face. He hadn’t called him and told him he was at the E.R, as far as his boyfriend knew he was at work.
He sat up in the bed and looked at the little nurse that approached him. She smiled and looked down at the tablet she held, looking at the results. “I hope we didn’t leave you waiting too long, Mr. Jefferson. We’re going to go ahead and admit you for further testing.” She handed him a gown and a bag to put his clothes and belongings in. “Is there anyone you want us to contact?” Thomas shook his head.
The nurse nodded and closed the curtain so he could get changed before going to leave. Thomas hadn’t stood up to start changing, instead he stayed still, letting himself fall back and relax into the bed, his heart wasn’t any calmer. Eventually he’d need to contact Alex and tell him he had been admitted to the hospital. He slipped his hand into his jean pocket and opened his phone, going to dial up alex. Better late than never. After a few rings he picked up.
“Thomas, this better be important.” he kinda snapped, his patients kinda thin from the long day he was having. “Well, that’s one way to greet your boyfriend.” he joked back, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to the worry in his voice. He did.
“Thomas what’s wrong?” He could hear Alex shifting on the other side of call, meaning he was getting up and ready to leave if he was asked. “Oh so now you’re worried, a few seconds ago you were snappy.” He couldn’t help a content chuckle. “Stop joking around, is something wrong? You wouldn’t have just called me for nothing.” Thomas had stood up and started to change into the gown, holding the phone between his face and shoulder.
“Well, I’m currently in the hospital. Remember how you wanted me to get the cough checked? Well I did and now they admitted me for further testing.” He tried to act ad nonchalant as possible, hoping the worry in Alex’s voice would go away. Alex’s voice was mixed with frustration and anxiety. “Do you need me there? I will leave if you need me to.”
“No, No. Don’t leave work. I’ll be fine.” He pulled the phone away as he coughed into his hand, groaning a bit. He looked at his hand and stopped, he shifted to rest the phone between his shoulder and Face again, using his left to wipe his mouth.
Blood. He had coughed it up, That was not good. He went to wipe it on his gown, figuring he’d tell once he was off the phone. “Hello? Did the call drop?” He drew his attention back to the phone.“No. I’m here, sorry.”
“Wow you really must be sick, you never apologize.” Alex poked more fun at him. “Haha very funny. Hey I have to go, They’re taking me up now. I love you.”
Before Alex could answer he hung the phone up and put it in the bag. Just as he did the nurse pulled the curtain back, taking the bag before another nurse had come with a wheelchair for him. He got up and sat in it, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, While I was changing I coughed up some blood, I figured now would be a good time to tell.” He shrugged his shoulders.
The nurses exchanged looks before the female had went to enter that into the tablet. The male nurse had pushed the wheelchair and took him to get a CT. he was brought into a room that was on a different floor than the ER, the room was dark and had a large machine that took most the room. The male nurse had pushed him to the machine and helped him up and onto the bed. “Ok, we need you to lay still, we’re going to get some pictures of the inside of your body.”
Thomas scoffed, he knew how this worked, he wasn’t a child. He did lay and close his eyes, a thousand thoughts running through as he did. The machine whirled as he slowly went into the small space head first. He took small breaths to try and calm himself as the scan happened. Soon enough it was over, and he was back in the wheelchair and into a room.
He had gotten himself into the bed and shifted under the covers, the nurse attaching him to different machines that stayed around the bed. He adjusted back into the pillow as the nurse talked to him and told him about the remote for the tv and the nurse button if he needed help. He just solemnly nodded his head. The nurse has left and thomas had closed his eyes, tired as hell. God he hoped and prayed it was something minor, but coughing up blood wasn’t something minor.
A knock had startled his eyes opened as he looked to see the nurse was back. He coughed a bit as she came to his bedside with a small machine that looked like a portable ultrasound. “I need to get a reading of your heart.” He nodded and she pulled the gown down, putting the liquid on his chest before running the handheld device over it. He kinda winced at the cold, and the sound of his heartbeat.
His heart sounded strong, but he could tell by the look on her face it wasn’t. She took a small towel and wiped the liquid off his chest before going to leave the room. Through the day he had been through multiple testing, and he hoped he would have gotten out but he hadn’t. The clock struck 6 when the nurse had come in, a heavy frown on her face. “Mr. Jefferson…we’re afraid that through all of the tests we’ve performed today, that you’re heart is failing.”
Thomas took a deep breath as he felt tears in his eyes, blinking them away. He just wanted to go home, continue his life like it had been. This hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jefferson. You’ll go on the transplant list and get a heart.” She gave a sigh and turned to leave.
When she left he hit his breaking point, pulling his knees to his chest and full on sobbing. He would have to live in this hospital and most likely be put on some machine to keep his heart beating. He suddenly felt arms around him and kisses to his temple. “Shhh” the voice spoke. It was alex.
Thomas just let himself be held until he was calm enough to speak, A hand wiping his eyes. “T-they said my heart…my heart is failing.” He could see the fear in Alex’s eyes. “They said they’re going to put me on the transplant list, and put me on an VAD.” he sniveled and shook, still in alex’s embrace.
“You’re alright, Thomas.” He said gently, running his hands through his curly locks. “You’ll be just fine. We can make it through this.” He planted small kisses on Thomas’ temple and held him close.
“We can make it through this.”

What other choice did they have?

Shhhh... (Steve Rogers x reader)

Request:  Hi! So, I have chronic migraines and was wondering if I could request a one-shot with Steve where the reader just got diagnosed with them? I don’t mind if any of the other Avengers are in it either if you want to go that route:) The only thing I ask is that Steve is more “supportive” than sad or sappy. Thank you! x

Here you go, doll!  I hope this is what you are looking for, and all my love to you!



In the midst of the mission, you were hit with a wave of nausea.  It was so unrelenting that you stumbled away from the battle zone, hiding yourself behind a small grove of trees.   Ok, ok, just breathe slowly, think of something else.  It seemed that you were only making it worse.  

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)?”

Steve’s voice was so loud in your earpiece that you ripped it out, throwing it aside.  Leaning back against the tree, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed against your temples as the pain began.  Your head felt like it was being crushed.  Of all the hits and battle wounds that you had endured as an Avenger, this topped them all.  As the pain grew the nausea only worsened.  Tears began to stream down your face, against your will, but you didn’t care to try to stop them.

“(Y/N), come in!”        

Struggling to put your comm back in, the nausea was finally winning its own battle.  “Cap, I’m behind-“

Oh, that’s not a good look.

Hoping that you didn’t completely disgust your teammates, you pulled your earpiece away quickly to cover what was happening.  Thankfully, you felt a little better afterwards, but the pain in your head was a constant.

Breathing quickly, you gathered yourself as best as you could.  “Cap, I’m behind the grove to your North.  I’m not feeling so good.  I’m sorry.  I need to get outta here.”

“(Y/N), hold tight.  I’m on my way to you now.”

~~~

Steve brought you back to the jet as the team completed their assigned tasks and ended the mission. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for not only pulling away from battle yourself, but also taking the Captain out as well.  Pulling off the outer layer of your uniform, the cool air felt good against your skin. Steve grabbed a cold pack from the first aid kit, resting it on your forehead as you lay down on a small cot.

“What else can I do?” He sat next to you, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive.

Your eyes had been shut since you got back to the jet, the light burning your eyes and making your head throb even more.  “Any chance we can kill some lights?”  You opened one eye slightly to look at him.  “And maybe talk really, really quietly?”

Steve fulfilled your requests and met the team before they boarded.  It was easily the quietest flight back that you had ever been on, even allowing you for a few minutes of sleep.

~~~

“Well, (Y/N), your scans all look normal.  Brain MRI and head CT don’t show any bleeding or signs of stroke, no tumors…yeah, it all looks fine to me.  I think what you have here is a classic migraine.  All of the symptoms you’ve describe match that perfectly; nausea, pain, sound sensitivity and photophobia.”  The doctor set down your chart and pulled a book from her pocket. “I can prescribe medications to take at the start of an attack, but I would also like to put you on something preventative since you are concerned that this occurred in the middle of a mission.”

Nodding your head, you agreed.  “Yes, please. I can’t have this affect the team or my part in the job.  Dropping out like I did could have put them at risk, and that’s the last thing I want to happen.”  

Steve had accompanied you to your evaluation in the infirmary.  Standing behind you, he put his hand on your shoulder.  “Hey, it’s not your fault.  We were okay, just worried about where you were.  Now that you know what happened, you can manage it, and we’ll try to help.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

He quietly laughed, taking your hand and helping you down from the exam table.  “I think that after I’ve had to help you clean the vomit from your hair and change into this lovely hospital gown, you can call me Steve.”

~~~

The new medications made you extremely tired.  The headache was finally gone, but the fatigue lasted for days as your body adjusted to the new regimen.  Steve was kind enough to allow you a break from missions away from the tower, but you had insisted on helping with intel, so Maria took your place as you worked from her office.  Doing nothing just wasn’t your style.

Every day since your first attack, Steve had made it his duty to check on you when you woke each morning.  “Are you sure you don’t want to head out with me?  Maybe get some fresh air?”

“Tell you what,” you yawned as you prepared your breakfast, “it feels too early for fresh air right now, but come find me when you get back.  I think I’ve finally got a handle on this ‘always tired’ business.”

When he returned several hours later, he was holding a bag full of books.  He had been out looking for education on migraines so that you could work on finding what triggered your headaches and how you could do more to avoid them.  

“Wow, Steve.  You’ve really taken an interest in this, haven’t you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he began sorting the books on the table in front of you.  “I grew up with all kinds of sicknesses.  My mom was a nurse- have I ever told you that? Anyway, I would hear her stories when she would come home from a long shift, and believe me, I heard things from my own doc often enough.  I took an interest in this kind of stuff.”  He put a hand up, apologetically.  “That’s not to say that I’m helping just because I want to learn! I really want to help!”

“Never once crossed my mind.”

“Oh!  Here, I have one more thing for you!”  He rummaged around in the bottom of the bag, pulling out a small box.  “I read that you should have one of these, in case you have trouble when you’re alone. I couldn’t find one that looked very nice, they were all just so plain, so I had this put together for you.”  

You watched him open the box, a quizzical look on your face.

“Oh, Cap, you didn’t need to do this!”  It was a delicate bracelet with a silver heart.  On one side was an embossed red cross, the other engraved with the words ‘chronic migraine’.  “It’s very thoughtful, thank you.”

“Ah, it was nothin’. Now,” he sat next to you, eagerly grabbing the first book.  “let’s figure this out once and for all.”

anonymous asked:

Can you please do prompt #23 with Bruce Banner? Thank you!

“I’m calling to cancel our date because I’m actually in the ER right now, sorry. …I mean, sure, I guess you can come down here, but… okay…”


Wow. What just happened?

You were walking across the pedestrian crossing towards the train station when—Oh right. It was dark, you had seen a pair of headlights approaching and you thought they would stop, but they didn’t. Your last thoughts before you had been hit was ‘oh shit, this is going to hurt’.

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