She’d been bleeding for that long, yet she was still conscious? His mind was racing, doing calculations of how much blood she might’ve lost already. He wasn’t going to let this woman die. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you,” Tom’s voice was soft and caring, his words gentle as he tried to comfort the woman who was currently bleeding out. One of his hands kept pressure on her side, the other cradled her as he helped her lay on the sleeping bag. “Here. Hold this. Firm, okay? I know it hurts, but you need to hold it tight.” Tom nodded to the woman before turning and grabbing the lantern, turning it on as bright as possible. The bleeding wasn’t as bad as he originally thought, but it wasn’t great either. He pulled the duffel close and unzipped it, pulling items out until he found what he was looking for. First aid kit – a well stocked one, at that. “You know, you can drop the gun. I’m not going to run, I’m not letting you die.”
As he helped her to lay down on her sleeping bag, Cara couldn’t help but think that this was the man she had watched with Lilah. A man so focused on taking care of the girl, on putting her at ease, that when Cara realized she had no choice but to seek help, he seemed like the best option. And, as she grew more and more tired, as compartmentalizing her pain became near impossible, it would’ve been an easy trap to fall into. To just let go. To trust him. But she couldn’t. Not until she was sure he wouldn’t wait until her guard was down and then attempt to get cell service so he could dial 911. His instructions pulled her from her thoughts, and she pressed her hand to her side with a soft moan escaping her lips. She was about to explain to him where he could find her kit but, since he was one step ahead of her, she instead replied to his comment about her gun, “…Doesn’t mean you won’t try to call for help. And I can’t have that.”
“I doubt I’d even have service way out here, but okay,” Tom quipped, reaching for the first aid kit once more. When he looked back at the woman, his face was plastered in worry. “Hey, Hey! I need you to stay awake. Talk to me, about anything,” he suggested, knowing that if she fell unconscious that he might not get her back. Tom was worried for the woman that lay before him – she had lost a lot of blood, and with no IV fluids or transfusion to give her, there was no way to replenish what she’d lost. He gut turned at the thought of losing her. No. Not today. He wasn’t going to lose her. He was determined. Tom dug through the first aid kit, finding a pair of tweezers and found a bottle of water in the duffel. He stabbed a hole in the lid of the plastic water bottle, preparing to irrigate the wound. “This is going to hurt like hell, but I need you to keep talking to me, okay?”
“You’ve had my heart from the beginning, Lisa.” Cisco’s eyes fell from her face, his stomach turning. It was weird, seeing someone you thought dead standing before you once more. “Things? That’s all I get is things?” His eyes snapped back up, filled with hurt, pain, and confusion.
“Did I?” As flattering as the thought was, Lisa didn’t understand how he still held onto feelings for her. It had been a long time since she sped away on her golden bike. “Things, Cisco.. family things.”
Like trying to find a way to save her brother.
“Fine, Never mind. Forget it. Seems like you already have.”
Cisco let out a heavy sigh. How did his heart still hurt from this? It had been years. Hell, he’d dated other people. “You mean Leonard things. I get it. Family is important.”
Not that he had a brother to care for anymore. He’d do anything to have Dante back.
Tom nodded. “Of course! I have loads of vacation time saved up, I could probably take a week paid and a week unpaid off, no harm, no foul. I’ll put in the request as soon as I can,” he smiled, his hand finding Gerald’s before looking back to the doctor.
“I’m afraid so. At least for the time being. You’ll have to come back for appointments here and there for us to check on the functionality of your lungs, and hopefully you can be rid of the oxygen for most of the day and only need it at nighttime. You’ll be asked to start physical therapy exercises first at home, then later on at an outpatient facility. It’s all outlined in your discharge paperwork.”
Tom looked back at Gerald, his eyes immediately meeting the other’s. “Hey, hey. It’s going to be alright. I’ll be right by your side, okay? We’ll get through this together.”
“So what is the amount of damage to my lungs currently? Will it heal do you think or will I forever need oxygen to a certain extent?” He asked the doctor wanting to know if he could potentially not be weighed down by a tank or whatever they would give him “will I be lugging a giant tank around or something else?”.
Gerald was becoming over whelmed feeling tears brim his eyes a bit as he wrapped himself around Tom leaning his head against the mans shoulders. “Your so nice Tom..I don’t want you to feel like you gotta do this..I don’t want to take advantage of you in anyway unless it’s for company cause I do like your company” he said sighing after letting the doctor speak “I’m still wondering if my family knows I’m here or not”
The doctor nodded. “Honestly, it’s hard to tell. Your body is still dealing with the trauma, so we can’t fully tell at this point. My best guess is that we’ll just have to play it by ear. If anything, it won’t be a giant tank. More than likely, it will just be a small portable machine. We can discuss that when the time comes.”
Tom nodded along with the doctor, looking back to see Gerald nearly in tears. “Hey, it’ll be alright. I know I don’t have to. I want to. You’ll be okay at home, it will be like having me over to watch a movie, and I’ll check your vitals from time to time. It will be great.” He paused, thinking about the family that still hadn’t visited Gerald. “Do you want me to call them now, or wait until you’re settled and back home? We can do whatever you’d like.”
“Yikes,” he responded, looking briefly at their feet before looking back up. “Like, that doesn’t surprise me, no offense. But that sucks.” Stefan’s grimace turned to a smile as Miles swung their arms. “What if I am? Is it too soon? Too forward? I know we just met.”
“But eight’s an even number,” Ray pleaded, wanting to continue his drunken escapade. “A nice, round, even number. eight drinks, eight sides of a stop sign, perfect number to stop at!” He exclaimed, reaching for the shot that was placed before him by the bartender. Ray downed the shot, making a face as it burned. He slapped his credit card down on the bar. “You may not be a bartender, but I’m Ray.”
“Your logic is… very sound.” Wren’s chuckle left her before she could stop it, with a grin following just seconds behind. “I think eight is agreeable.” With her grin dialing back to a smirk, she cut her eyes toward the bartender, gave him a nod. Eight it was.
She picked up her own drink and took a sip from it. “Wren,” she said, passing along her name with an amiable incline of her head. “A few more drinks of my own and I may just get to eight too, but I’m pacing myself.”
“Yeah? You think?” Ray beamed, taking his card back and sloppily scribbling a few lines as his signature. He leaned on the bar, resting his head in his hand as he looked at the woman.
“Wren? That’s a nice name. Rhymes with Ben! That was the name of my fish in the third grade. He was nice.” Ray sighed, missing his little fish from so, so many years ago. “I mean, I was pacing myself, then I realized I had nobody to keep pace with, and these mixed drinks? So good!”
To say Caroline was furious was an understatement. She had plans, goals, a GPA to maintain and this Stefan asshole was ruining everything. Why in the world did she have to get paired with this dick for her project? They had agreed on a time to meet up in the library and not only did he not show up, but he also hadn’t responded to any of her texts.
Inhaling sharply, she stormed through the hallways of the dorm building to pound on his door, not caring who she bothered in the process. Or that the fact that she only knew where the man’s dorm was because she bullied the RA into sharing confidential information.
“Stefan!” she shouted through the door. “You better be in there!”
Stefan rolled over with a groan as he heard pounding on his door. “’M awake,” he mumbled, wrapping himself in his blanket before going to the door. He cracked it open, allowing the woman at the door to see only a sliver of his face. “Can I help you? I’m trying to enjoy my Saturday by sleeping in.” What Stefan hadn’t realized was that it was in fact, not Saturday at all. He had spent the night eluding his security detail, er, ‘roommate,’ and partying at many of the frat houses surrounding campus. “Did we have a meeting or something?”
RP PARTNER (quietly): so, it’s a little silly, but I had this plot idea and I was wondering if you were up for it? It’s okay if you say no, I just thought it’d be fun-
If we ship something (or our characters otherwise have a very developed relationship romantic or not) know that I definitely want to talk about it. All the time. I am totally willing to talk headcanons, scenarios, do plotting, all of that– but I don’t want to seem like I’m being pushy by bringing our muses’s relationship up. I just want to know that if I do talk about that sort of stuff with our characters that I don’t come off as annoying… Or seem like all that I’m thinking about is our ship. If you do let me know it’s okay to talk about it whenever, though, totally expect me to send you anything I think of when it comes to our muses relationship! There’d certainly be no shortage of things to talk about. I just want to make sure that you’re just as engaged in it as I am.
Cisco backup 