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stellar-constellations · 1 day

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Star Patient: Chapter 5 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 12,000+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)

Andrew glided through the hospital corridors, taking the elevator to the pediatric branch. He really couldn’t care less about the kid, Hailey, but for some reason his favorite nurse just loved the little nuisance.

He felt a bit jealous. Does she like Hailey more than him?

Obviously, she does, considering how she had talked about the girl when they first met. He felt pretty annoyed. Did she spend more of her time and attention on the ill girl? Did she get to innocently hug her like that? If Andrew wasn’t so prideful, he’d definitely ask her for a hug.

Hell, he was really fighting with himself to ask now. Just a small quick hug, nothing bad! He wondered if he could genuinely pull that off. He wondered how she must feel inside his arms. Would she rest her head against his chest, or would she rather prefer resting it on his shoulder? Is she one of those people who cling onto you like their life depends on it, or was she someone who preferred soft and polite hugs? Would she be a long and affectionate hugger, or simple and sweet?

He put that thought in the back of his mind for now, rolling down the hallways to Hailey’s room. He didn’t bother to open the door, much like he did with (Y/N)’s room earlier, as he strolled in without a care.

Hailey laid in her bed, her eyes glued to some book (Y/N) got her, before she glanced at him. Her eyes raised, surprised to see the pale man again.

“Andrew, was it?” she questioned, her voice sounding better from yesterday. “What are you doing here?”

“(Y/N) told me to check on you.” He stated bluntly.

“(Y/N)? Is she here?” Hailey questioned, a smile growing on her face. “I haven’t seen her tonight! I thought she was off work?”

Andrew was about to open his mouth and say (Y/N) was, before remembering how the nurse didn’t want the girl to know about her condition.

“Uh, no…” he muttered, looking away. “She… wanted me to get into books to distract myself… so she told me to go to you for any books.” He lied.

“So you do have an interest in books after all.” Hailey smiled. “You must have an interest in nurse (Y/N) too, huh?” Hailey smirked teasingly.

“…What are you getting at?” Andrew questioned, resisting the urge to glare at the sick girl.

How the hell did this kid know? Andrew questioned to him.

“It’s very obvious.” She smiled. “See, if I had a past life, I’m sure I was like a cupid!”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, kid.” He spoke, brushing off the comment as he decided not to entertain nor deny the idea.

“I’m very serious.” Hailey re-enforced. “I can see it in your eyes! You’re invested in her!”

Who is this brat… Andrew thought, annoyed but intrigued (much to his dismay).

“You know, I’ve known her ever since she came here. I know her type of men.” Hailey lied, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.

“…You do?” Andrew muttered, now he was unashamedly interested.

“I could tell you…” she hummed, trailing off. “Or not.”

Andrew looked hesitant, before letting out a sigh. He rolled his chair up to her bedside, glancing down at her lap where her open book rested.

The book she got from (Y/N)…

God, everything just seems to trace back to that woman, huh? No matter what, everything he sees and hears all traces back to her, even outside of the hospital people are attracted to her (even if the reasons could be malicious). It’s almost pathetic how hooked he is on her, despite not even knowing her for a week. It’s almost scary how everyone seems to be attracted to the girl, she just had an aura that everyone was aware of and drawn to.

He could look at something stupid like his shoes and remember her footsteps as she walked with him to the surgery room. He could remember her hands on his face, chest, wrist, looking all around and checking his condition, his bandages, his vitals. He could look at his bedsheets and remember her hands tucking him in for bed… and imagine things he’d rather not envision for a woman he just met.

Yeah, back in the hatch those thoughts go.

“Could you just tell me?” he huffed, trying to sound as uninterested as possible despite asking for this, rather impatiently at that.

“Well? Do you like her?” Hailey questioned.

Andrew took the moment to think to himself. Yeah, she was a pretty nice nurse, and she knew her stuff despite specializing in pediatrics; though he shouldn’t be surprised, children are basically just the same anatomy as adults, just smaller in size.

She had a nice voice, and she somehow balanced between playful and professional, perhaps that’s practiced for pediatrics to make kids feel comfortable yet still hold authority.

She had a cute smile, and her eyes were pretty to look into. He liked looking at her while she worked, sometimes she’d even bite her lip or stick her tongue out to remind herself to concentrate. She looked like an angel laying on that white hospital bed. Even in pain, she still looked pretty.

He wondered how she was outside of the hospital. She was a human too, how did she act with her friends, or her family? How did she act alone? Was she single? Did she have a boyfriend, or did she prefer girls? Would she take interest in him? Could she see him as a potential partner?

Fuck. Yeah, he definitely liked her.

“Just a little…” he muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

This feels weird (and degrading, in a sense) to be relying on a sick kid for love advice.

“So you admit it?” she smiled.

“Are you gonna tell me or not?” Andrew growled.

By now, Hailey was no longer fearful or anxious of Andrew. Andrew was just a lovesick puppy hopelessly enamored with her favorite nurse, in her eyes at least. She learned that expression from her books.

“No.” Hailey smiled, picking up her book.

“Why?” Andrew questioned, feeling a little betrayed that she made him admit his feelings only to not hold onto their deal.

“Because I lied.” Hailey smiled. “I don’t know her type.”

“Brat…” Andrew muttered under his breath, unashamed to be talking smack in front of a dying kid.

He could’ve said worse, but it’s quite mean to talk ill to a sick child, especially in front of them. Besides, (Y/N) wouldn’t like it if she found out.

“So, books?” Hailey hummed, getting back to her reading. “This book I’m reading right now is pretty good. I can read it to you.” She suggested.

“No…” he grumbled, still a little upset that he was tricked.

He’ll let her lying slide. Kids will be kids, let them have their fun.

“How about I read it to you instead?” Andrew suggested.

He didn’t want her reading to him; he was the adult, not her. Besides, her voice sounds hoarse and struggling, he’d rather him read it to her than have the kid push herself—not because he’s soft or anything, but because (Y/N) would be upset.

Hailey seemed to ponder the idea, before handing over the book to him.

“Just don’t crease the pages.” Hailey spoke.

“Got it.” Andrew hummed, looking at the page she was originally reading.

He started at the beginning of the page, reading a bit wonky at first, before he started to get into the narration. The words started to flow more smoothly, and he even took pauses for dramatic effect at the intense moments that felt like they needed a pause to sink in.

One chapter became two, and two became four. He was pretty interested in the story, makes sense considering it was his (Y/N) who got the story, of course she’d have immaculate taste too.

He read until his throat went dry, the tip of his tongue aching from all the pronunciations. He looked up from the book to see Hailey asleep.

Did she get bored? Andrew thought, a little offended that she fell asleep at the book (Y/N) gave her instead of giving it to him, especially when he was kind enough to read it to her.

Maybe she just liked his voice? It’s perfect for listening to. His voice wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either, like a polite demand for attention or to respect his authority. It was deep, but not too deep, with a slight rasp from smoking. He was good at projecting his voice so others could listen to him—well, everyone except Ashley, really.

Thinking of Ashley, where is she? She was sure acting weird today. Something about the demon’s vision she saw in her dream. She also described (Y/N)’s appearance despite not even knowing the nurse; he couldn’t recall any moment they had interacted.

Andrew took a white bookmark that laid on her bedside table, placing it on the page he stopped reading on. He closed the book, placing it down on Hailey’s bedside. He wheeled out of the room, making his way back to the elevators.

He entered the elevator, pressing the button for the emergency branch, waiting for the doors to re-open. The metal shutters opened and he rolled out, going back to (Y/N)’s room.

He made it, opening the door and entering without bothering to knock. (Y/N) laid in the hospital bed, her eyes closed as she appeared to be sleeping.

Damn… Andrew thought, disappointed. I was hoping to talk to her.

He doesn’t know what he would’ve talked about, but he was hoping she’d start the conversation. He wanted to get closer to her, emotionally and physically.

Andrew debated what he should do, before finally giving in, rolling his wheelchair up to her side. He observed her sleeping face, blissfully unaware of his presence as she slept. Her hair was a little messy, perhaps from sleeping or from the attack earlier. Her skin was a bit paler than usual, perhaps from shock or blood loss. She had more prominent bags under her eyes than usual, resting heavily under her closed eyes.

He wondered who attacked her, and why. Was it a crazy ex boyfriend? Some stalker? A jealous friend? Someone suffering under delusions? He wondered what happened.

He had an idea, though he was scared to ponder on it.

Instead of thinking about it, he distracted himself. He looked down at her bandaged arm, trailing his hands down to her wrists, and to her fingernails.

Her nails were strangely clean. They were polished and trimmed, which makes sense considering nurses need to have good hygiene, especially so they don’t transfer bacteria or accidentally infect patients. They looked like they had been scrubbed squeaky clean recently, not even a trace of dirt under her nails.

Her hands looked small compared to his, clean and petite compared to his rough and damaged ones.

His hands had small burns from failing to light his cigarettes as a starter; her hands had small burns from ovens and hot cookware and hot glue guns, yet somehow her scars were far more attractive than his.

His hands were dirty, stained with blood and sins; hers were clean, baptized in purity and commandant.

He wondered how her hands would feel against his. They looked soft, would they feel soft? He wondered if she used lotion, what her favorite nail polish was, how long she liked her nails.

Those thoughts led to other thoughts. What did she like wearing when she’s at home? What does she wear in public? What kind of music does she listened to? What kind of foods does she like?

He decided it was best to stop those thoughts. He stared at her hands, juggling his thoughts in his head, before finally giving in. He reached out and held her hand with his larger one.

He held it gently, feeling the weight of it. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, memorized at the difference. Her hand was slightly cold, possibly due to how cold the hospital’s AC is followed by blood loss, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to touch.

He looked at her face to see if she woken up or felt the touch. She didn’t.

His fingers carefully interlocked with her, cautious to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She remained neutral, not even a flutter of her eyelashes or any stirring.

She must be really tired… Andrew thought.

His admired their hands as they eloped together. He noticed discoloration on her hands, He shifted his body, laying his elbow down on the edge of the mattress and using his arm as a pillow. He admired her sleeping face, closing his eyes to relish the touch and intimacy of this moment. He doesn’t know how long it took for him to fall asleep, but it was relatively quick. . .

A few hours later, Andrew jolted awake first at the sound of the door opening, turning his head at the noise. (Y/N) groaned, opening her eyes and seeing Andrew by her side, holding her hand as a man stood in the doorway, one Andrew didn’t know.

Andrew squeezed (Y/N)’s hand softly, a silent greeting before glaring at the man, almost possessive of (Y/N)’s vulnerable state.

“Hello, Doctor Ryan…” (Y/N) yawned, before directing her attention to Andrew. “And hello to you too, Andrew.” She hummed, smiling as she gently squeezed his hand back.

She looked down at their hands, wondering when she and Andrew started holding hands, or even when he returned back. Her hands trailed down to her sleeves, more so lack of, as the hospital gown didn’t have any long-sleeves for her. She noticed her scars out in the open and ripped her hand away from Andrew’s, a sense of insecurity and embarrassment rapidly building in her as she hid her arms under her blanket.

Andrew looked confused (even a little disheartened that she let go) as Doctor Ryan walked over to her. Doctor Ryan isn’t usually at the hospital on Saturday nights, but he could’ve decided to work overtime this week. It’s not unusual since he has a stay-at-home wife and three kids.

“Hello! I heard what happened and I figured I’d wait to see you when you’re awake.” The doctor smiled brightly, walking over to her bedside and sitting next to Andrew. “And who is this?” he questioned, looking at Andrew, yet having a good idea of who it was as he sent a knowing smirk.

While Doctor Ryan had never met Andrew face-to-face, he had read his report when assigning (Y/N) to watch him his first night, along with hearing all the gossip from Penelope.

Andrew had a small reputation around the hospital since he’s one of the trouble patients, on suicide watch and needing special treatment for his wounds and wants. Andrew wouldn’t accept any care from any other nurse during the night shift, it was a fight for the day shift to care for him until (Y/N) told him to behave for day shift. His sister was also banned from the hospital due to proving a threat to Andrew’s recovery and health, though she won’t be a problem anymore.

Rumors spread pretty easily of Andrew’s fondness and almost admiration of the nurse he chose, (Y/N). Penelope has a big mouth without meaning to, having a bad habit of rambling and over sharing her and other people’s problems and secrets, so it spread pretty quick of the strange relationship the nurse and patient shared. Penelope’s ramblings of doubt as a nurse because Andrew wouldn’t accept her care had reached Doctor Ryan’s ears, being the catalyst of his teasing to his student, (Y/N).

“This is Andrew.” (Y/N) introduced when she realized Andrew wasn’t going to answer the doctor’s question, only give him a nasty glare.

She cleared her throat, shoving her arms into her blanket so the pair of males didn’t see, and flashed a smile. “What’s your visit for? Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me work.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke.

“I wouldn’t say 'work' exactly.” Doctor Ryan smiled, before it faltered, letting out a sigh. “You’re here today, so I figured it’d be a good time to tell you. I think it’s best if you see Hailey.”

“Hailey? Why? Did something bad happen to her?” (Y/N) questioned, doing her best to not sound alarmed or panicked.

It’s never a good thing for a nurse to panic, it’d defeat a key factor of their job. Nurses are supposed to provide aid to their patients, whether it’s emotionally or physically, or even emotional in cases like Andrew’s. A nurse panicking would panic their patient since they’re going to look to the one with most experience. If a patient panics, they can worsen their condition or provide unnecessary stress that can affect their recovery or even create new problems.

And people think being a nurse is just all fluffing pillows and handing out medication. You have to be constantly in tune with the patients emotions, symptoms, and healing process; from what they're feeling to how much they're eating or using the bathroom. Always checking up on how they are and cater them to the best of your ability; serving them food (and sometimes helping feed them), changing their bedsheets, helping them to the bathroom, helping out with physical therapy, prepping them for procedures or appointments, and charting. The worse is charting. You have to document every single thing; from what they ate and what times, to who visited them today, to how what they said to be feeling and what they looked actually looked to be feeling like, to any improvement or decline or neutrality of their status, to their behavior, to what medicines they had, to their complaints or compliments they have about the hospital or their treatment, and so much more.

“She’s just not in the greatest condition at the moment. I think it’s best she sees you.” Doctor Ryan spoke.

Before she could question it, Doctor Ryan grabbed something from his coat, placing it down on her bedside table.

“Here,” he spoke, patting what looked to be a Polaroid recorder down on her table, “I came to drop this off too. This was supposed to be a wholesome visit, until Hailey at least…” he spoke, allowing his smile to drop. “Check out the contents on the camera later. I have to get back to work. Get well soon!”

“Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, watching Doctor Ryan leave the room.

“Who was that?” Andrew questioned, glancing over at her as he resisted the urge to grimace.

“That’s Doctor Ryan, he’s my professor! He’s the one teaching me pediatrics since I’m an apprentice.” (Y/N) explained, slowly sitting up from the bed.

Andrew watched her movements carefully, observing how she slowly took her time getting out of bed. She didn’t apply much pressure on her injured leg as her sock-clothed feet hit the ground (with clean hospital socks, none of her blood soaked up in it and used to plug in any stab wounds). The room looked like a carousel, spinning rapidly, and a headache followed with it, screaming loudly in her head. She let out a groan as Andrew quickly placed a hand on her waist.

"Careful..." Andrew muttered, watching her intently as he kept his hand on her waist.

"Thank you, but I'm fine." (Y/N) lied, placing her hand on his shoulder to use as leverage.

"Yeah, sure." He hummed sarcastically.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to glare at him. While she wasn't on duty, she was still his nurse and she didn't feel like having any workplace drama.

"Do you want me to assist you there?" Andrew questioned, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on her hip.

"No, it's fine." She spoke, taking a few steps to the door and ignoring the stabbing sensation in her leg.

"Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, trying his best to not look too concerned for her.

"Yes, I'm sure." She huffed, trying not to be snippy. "It's for the best. I don't want Hailey to be nervous or worried, especially if there's something going on with her."

"Just be careful..." Andrew spoke, watching her limp away. "I'll be here waiting for you."

(Y/N) took the moment to look back at him, confused. Before she could question it, she stopped herself, deciding there was always later to talk about it. Right now Hailey needs her, Andrew can wait.

(Y/N) settled for a nod, rummaging in the hospital cabinets and grabbing a white blanket. She wrapped it around her body to hide her hospital gown; she wouldn’t want to worry Hailey. (Y/N) limped out of the room, going down the halls to the elevator.

She pressed the floor the pediatric branch was on, waiting rather impatiently for the doors to open again as she descended.

Was Hailey okay? What did he mean by she’s not in the greatest condition? Has she gained more symptoms, or weakened?

Hailey has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, also known as ALL. It’s a cancer inside the blood and bone marrow, where the infected white blood cells are rapidly multiplying, creating blocks in the blood and bones that could prevent other cells from getting through and working. The cancer comes with symptoms such as fever, frequent nose bleeds, weakness or fatigue, easy bruising, pain in the bones or stomach or groin, frequent infections, and swollen lymph nodes.

Hailey’s most prominent symptoms are her swollen lymph nodes, hence why her voice is low and raspy, along with her bone pains in her legs, which is why she’s bedridden. At least 90% of kids under 15 who have ALL survive, so long as they’re treated. Even thought Hailey has been in the hospital for three years, she’s made very little progress in recovering.

Despite there being no stages in ALL cancer, if (Y/N) had to guess, she’s assume Hailey would be in stage 3. Over the years of chemotherapy and medications, her infected white blood cells just seem to be multiplying more and more, hence why it’s called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, acute means rapid.

(Y/N)’s theory is that a doctor didn’t give a strong enough dosage to Hailey, therefore the cells grew a resistance to the medication, creating a superbug that could withstand the medicine entirely.

Even then, what matters is if Hailey is feeling alright. (Y/N) exited the elevator and limped down the hallways, making it to Hailey’s room and opening the door.

“Oh. Hello, Ms. (L/N)!” Hailey greeted brightly, her voice still hoarse and raspy, but having life to it. “What are you doing here? You said it was your day off!”

Hailey’s upper body shot up quickly as she sat up from bed, a smile on her face as she greeted (Y/N). Her eyes were bright and lively, even waving her arm at the nurse.

Oh.

“Sorry it’s so early!” (Y/N) smiled. “It’s at least 5 A.M. What are you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I just had such a sudden burst of energy!” Hailey spoke. “I think I’m getting better!”

(Y/N) ignored that comment, sitting down on the guest chair in Hailey’s room. Her eyes trailed to the wheelchair that sat near her IV pole, a wheelchair that’s only used for Hailey to wheel herself to the bathroom now, but even then she needs help from the nurses.

“So? How’s that book you’re reading?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I’m almost done with it. At least 30 pages away.” Hailey answered. “What are you doing here at the hospital? It’s your night off; unless you’re working overtime again?”

“Yes! I’m working overtime again.” (Y/N) lied, smiling at the girl.

It’s best not to tell her anything, not in her condition.

“Are you cold? Why are you wearing a blanket?” Hailey questioned.

“Yes, I’m cold. I’m feeling a bit chilly at the moment. It’s verging to winter and the hospital still hasn’t adjusted the thermostat yet.” (Y/N) lied once more. “Hey, remember when I said I’ll take you to the garden the next time I see you? Would you like to go right now?”

Hailey’s eyes brightened even more, her grin widening as she nodded. “Yes! I want to see the flowers!”

“Let’s get you in the wheelchair, yeah?” (Y/N) spoke, standing up from the chair and using the blanket to hide herself limping from Hailey’s sight.

Hailey used her upper arms and was able to push herself to the edge of the bed on her own, even moving her knees a bit too! (Y/N) still carefully placed one of her arms under Hailey’s knees and the other on her back, picking up Hailey and placing her in the wheelchair.

(Y/N) decided against the wheelchair restraints, not wanting Hailey to feel trapped at the moment. (Y/N) grabbed the blanket off Hailey’s bed, but Hailey spoke up.

“We can leave the blanket. I actually feel pretty warm at the moment.” Hailey spoke.

The only warmth Hailey usually had was when she had a fire spreading in her legs, the bone pains acting up and causing many sleepless nights for her. It’s why Hailey is almost always awake when (Y/N) does her rounds around the hospital at night.

“It’s cold outside. Let’s take the blanket just in case.” (Y/N) persisted, smiling as she covered Hailey’s shoulders and down with the thin white cloth.

Hailey decided not to argue against it and cooperated. (Y/N) wheeled Hailey out of the room, her pace a little slower than usually as she felt that stabbing sensation in her leg and stomach. It made her silently hitch her breath, her ears having a slight ring in them, yet she persisted.

“Gosh, I haven’t seen these halls in forever.” Hailey spoke, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the white hallways. “You know, I read that whenever you enter a unfamiliar area, the reason why you feel dizzy is because you have a sensory overload. Like, you’re saving mental images and color palettes and the layout of the area all in your head, that way you remember where you are the next time you go! Even though I’ve been here before, it feels like it’s my first time down these halls all over again.”

Yes, (Y/N) knows that. She was the one who gave Hailey the book she learned that from, but for Hailey’s sake (and to distract her mind from the pain), she decided to play dumb.

“Wow, really?” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “I never knew that. It makes sense now that you’ve explained it.”

Hailey nodded, smiling. “Yeah! I remember having that dizziness when I was at my friend’s for a sleepover.” She spoke, before her smile dropped. “Though, it was before I had cancer, or at least when I wasn’t placed in the hospital… I sometimes miss having friends.”

“Why, of course you have friends.” (Y/N) spoke. “You have me! And you have Doctor Ryan, and Penelope, and Ruby, and even Andrew too.”

“Yeah, but I mean friends my age.” Hailey spoke.

Normally, that could be arranged in the hospital so long as the patients aren’t being exposed to a infectious disease or illness, especially in Hailey’s case since she’s more prone to getting infections; however, Hailey didn’t want to be friends with the other kids after her hair started falling out due to the chemotherapy. She was insecure of her appearance deteriorating, even if Penelope kept lying to her face and telling her she looked perfectly fine. Hailey preferred (Y/N) over Penelope for that reason. (Y/N) always told her the truth, or at least left it blank so there was no harsh comment.

If Penelope asked (Y/N) if she looked sickly today, (Y/N) would tell her that a bit of water and food would help bring back some color to her face. It was a good way to not only promote healthy behavior for Hailey, but also it helped build trust in (Y/N) to always telling her the truth about her health. If she asked Penelope, Penelope would’ve lied and said she looked as bright as the sun; which is kind, but she could tell Penelope was lying by how Penelope’s right eye would twitch and bite her bottom lip.

“I see… well, I’m sure we can arrange that soon, when you’re ready.” (Y/N) smiled, taking Hailey into the elevator.

(Y/N) pressed the lobby floor as Hailey spoke up.

“Are the flowers even in bloom? Since it’s verging to winter?” Hailey questioned.

“A secret between me and you; the flowers are fake.” (Y/N) whispered, acting as if there was a camera watching her or something. We have scented pads hidden in the soil to make it smell like flowers, and we wet the soil regularly to keep that earthy smell lingering.”

“Really?” Hailey gasped.

“That’s why they’re always in bloom. It’s depressing to have an empty garden, even something as small as colorful flowers give people hope.” (Y/N) explained.

While fake flowers aren’t present in most hospitals, this hospital was different. Even if they were always understaffed and overworked, they at least cared for their patients. Even if the staff excel at their work or not, at least they have work ethic.

The elevator doors opened as (Y/N) wheeled Hailey down the hallways. (Y/N) noticed the stares from guests and even some patients; whether it was because of Hailey’s bald head or (Y/N)’s limp. (Y/N) noticed Hailey’s gripping the blanket on her, seconds away from raising the blanket above her head to hide it. (Y/N) recognized Hailey’s insecurity and spoke up.

“You know, I’m thinking of starting a garden. A real garden with real flowers indoors, that way patients with allergies or conditions can see the flowers too without going outside.” (Y/N) spoke, redirecting Hailey’s attention. “I was wondering what flowers you’d like for me to add. I’ll do a survey with the other patients too, have a nice diversity of flowers. What do you think?”

“I think… it’s a nice idea.” Hailey smiled, letting go of the blanket. “I think daisies. You should do daisies.”

“That’s a nice flower. I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling as she pushed open the glass door, rolling Hailey to the garden.

(Y/N) guided Hailey to the wooden bench, picking up Hailey and placing her down on the seat so she wouldn’t be confided to the wheelchair.

Hailey rambled on and on about anything and everything. She talked so much that (Y/N) contemplated if she should go fetch water for Hailey’s throat given how raspy it was, but she decided against it as she noticed the signs.

Hailey’s bright smile, the almost whimsical joy in her eyes; an expression that (Y/N) thought Hailey has lost over the years as she spent her birthdays in this hospital.

(Y/N) remembers bringing a cake for Hailey’s 7th birthday, the first they spent together. Even though Hailey admitted to not liking vanilla cake, she still ate it. It was the last birthday she’d spend with her parents before they threw themselves at work, leaving Hailey along in the hospital with other sick patients and the staff.

The second birthday they spent together, (Y/N) had to ditch the candles, concerned the smoke would affect Hailey’s lungs. At least the cake was homemade, even if the frosting looked a bit ugly. (Y/N) made sure it was chocolate this time, so Hailey could enjoy it.

And the third birthday they spent together, (Y/N) made an ice cream cake, chocolate of course. She figured the ice cream would soothe Hailey’s throat and Hailey could still enjoy the flavor. It took many tries, but she succeeded in making the perfect cake, gifting Hailey books for her to read too.

If (Y/N) had known it would be Hailey’s last birthday, she would’ve made sure to go all out. Buy balloons and party streamers, force her parents to come back and see her, cover her head to toe in presents.

Unfortunately, you can’t change time.

Hailey’s eyes shined as she spoke, talking about anything possible. She didn’t have many who would listen to her, her doctors and nurses were there for work, and (Y/N) couldn’t visit long since she had other patients to tend to. But now, (Y/N)’s off the clock. At the moment she’s not Hailey’s nurse, she’s Hailey’s friend.

Eventually, Hailey’s voice faltered, before she let out a hum, satisfied as she rested her head on the bench. She took a deep breath, then sighed, smiling softly.

“It really does smell like flowers. Those are some good quality scent pads.” Hailey spoke.

Fake flowers last for years; patients do not.

“Do you ever wonder what’s beyond us?” Hailey questioned after a long silence.

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) questioned, turning her head to face the girl.

“Death. Like, do you ever wonder what happens after?” Hailey added.

(Y/N) hummed, thinking as she kept her blanket wrapped around her, hiding her hospital gown just as Hailey hid from the cold.

She wasn’t sure. Many religions had their own ideals of life and death, but she doubted Hailey wanted an answer based on religion. She wasn’t sure what was beyond. After trying to kill herself, everything in her life started losing value, a spiral of nothing and everything thrown at her all at once.

Even if she stopped hurting herself physically, she couldn’t stop mentally.

“I think it changes for everyone.” (Y/N) spoke. “Like, your own paradise. You could be surrounded by anyone you want, and anything you want.”

“What would you want to be surrounded by?” Hailey questioned.

She didn’t have to think much on that matter. There wasn’t much in her life she cared about anymore. She did nothing but work nowadays. She was an empty husk that worked itself to death to pass the time, awaiting Death by the door.

If she couldn’t open the door, she’ll make Death open it.

“Beds.” (Y/N) answered.

“Really? That’s it?” Hailey questioned, surprised and perhaps kindly disappointed. “I was expecting something… more. Like, deep, or wise.”

“You can’t expect everything to make sense in life, you know.” (Y/N) chuckled. “Sometimes things just happen. I think that’s what’s so fun about life, it’s just a mystery to be solved at the end of the line through all that hard work; or, perhaps there’s no mystery. Maybe it just coexists just like we do.”

“How can your answer be so boring but your follow-up be so wise?” Hailey pouted, cause (Y/N) to chuckle.

“Hey, I never said I’d give you any special answer.” (Y/N) pointed out.

“But, really, why beds?” Hailey questioned.

“I just like sleeping.” (Y/N) smiled, giving part of the truth.

“I guess it’ll suffice.” Hailey sighed, disappointed.

“And you? What would you like to be surrounded by?” (Y/N) questioned.

“My parents.” Hailey spoke. “And my old friends. And tons of my hair, like as much hair as Rapunzel.”

“That sounds nice.” (Y/N) hummed. “Though, you’d have to brush your hair all the time. Maybe it’s not so good having hair, I can’t stand mine at times.” (Y/N) spoke, trying to gently reassure Hailey.

“Well, maybe just normal hair then. What it used to look like before.” Hailey spoke. “You’d be there too. I wouldn’t only see you when you’re working. I’d see you outside of the hospital as my friend.”

“What’s it matter where or how you meet? As long as we’re still friends, I don’t see any issue.” (Y/N) smiled.

Hailey smiled, nodding. “I like that.”

Eventually, Hailey went quiet, no longer having any words to speak. She sat on the bench, observing her surroundings in a youthful fashion. Her eyes sparkled with life, her pulse relaxing as she enjoyed the false nature around her.

“Thank you for staying with me.” Hailey spoke up, her volume decreasing, the sound of her raspy voice cracking more. “I know it’s probably hard for you to see me like this.”

“Anything for you, Hails.” (Y/N) smiled, wrapping her arm around Hailey’s shoulder and giving her a gentle side-hug.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone. It means a lot to me…” Hailey muttered, taking a few deep breaths, before eventually subduing.

(Y/N) glanced at the IV pole, looking at the fluids that gently flowed in Hailey’s veins, before she turned her attention back to Hailey.

After a few minutes, there was no movement from Hailey. No breathing. No eye movement. No leg twitching. Just nothing.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, smelling the fake flowers and wet soil, before letting out a sob she’s been holding.

Hailey had so much life, and yet she died so young. She was so lively in her final moments.

All that matters now is she’s not going to be in anymore pain and that she wasn’t scared. (Y/N) thought.

Even if kids under 15 have a 90% chance of surviving acute lymphoblastic leukemia, it doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed. Life and death is really never a guarantee though, so it’s good to enjoy it while it lasts.

If only (Y/N) could follow her own advice.

(Y/N) covered her face in her hands, crying now that Hailey was gone, so she wouldn’t see her tears. This hurt way worse than any stab she could endure.

(Y/N) almost contemplated covering Hailey’s face with the her blanket, but she decided against it. She didn’t want to be ashamed of Hailey or her presence, she didn’t want to forget Hailey or brush her aside.

(Y/N) stood up, deciding not to waste much time, and picked Hailey up, putting her in the wheelchair. She had such lifeless and glazed eyes, her mouth was slightly open and her arms flayed motionless as (Y/N) moved. She doesn’t look like the suddenly bright and cheerful Hailey from just a few minutes ago.

Terminal Lucidity. It’s an unknown phenomenon that can happen before death, giving you suddenly more strength, a clearer consciousness, and even regaining memory. It’s surprisingly common, at least 88% experiencing the symptoms before death. It can happen from minutes to hours to days before death, and it has a habit of giving false hope to the patients loved ones. While it’s quite common in dementia patients, it can also happen to those with neurological problems or in some special cases those with cancer.

In the hospital, a terminal patient suddenly acting lively and alert is usually a bad thing because it means they’re near death. It’s not quite known why, but some speculate it could be the brain’s last fight, before eventually giving in.

(Y/N) wheeled Hailey’s dead body to the hospital’s mortuary. She checked the body in, guessing the nearest time of death since she didn’t have a watch on her, and the cause of death. She wrote down the parental numbers so they could be contacted, before lumping her way back to the elevator.

The ride up was deathly silent, not that anyone was in the elevator to talk to her, but it was silent in her mind too. Usually she’d at least be thinking of things to do, but she had no thoughts in her mind.

The elevator doors opened and (Y/N) walked out. She walked back to her own hospital room, exhausted and tired. Tears threatened to escape her eyes once more, the pain of losing Hailey and the pain of her wounds piling up on her.

She opened the door, surprised to see Andrew there, sleeping in his wheelchair with his arms crossed. (Y/N) wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or happy. Annoyed because she wanted to cry and sleep, but also happy because it meant she wasn’t alone with her thoughts and feelings.

The door opened, jolting Andrew awake. He was probably in a light sleep, whether because he was expecting (Y/N) or because the wheelchair is uncomfortable to sleep in. Whatever the reason was, he was awake.

His eyes trailed to (Y/N), doing his best not to smile and brighten up at her presence (that would be so lame if he did that).

“Hey.” Andrew spoke.

“Hey.” (Y/N) parroted, throwing her blanket at Andrew for him to use instead as she got up in her hospital bed.

There was no point in hiding her hospital gown now that Hailey was dead, so that blanket could now be used by Andrew while she got under her own hospital bedsheets.

“You can go to your room, you know. I’m fine on my own.” (Y/N) spoke.

“So? You got stabbed.” Andrew gruffed, catching the blanket and placing it down on his lap.

“And you have two broken legs, mister. You should still be recovering after surgery.” (Y/N) scolded lightly.

Her response caused Andrew to chuckle. Even injured and off the clock, she still worried about others. Andrew wasn’t sure if it was because she was his nurse or if she was just trying to be a decent human, but he relished the attention anyways.

“Ah, c’mon. I feel fine.” He chuckled.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to kick his leg to prove him wrong, yet she decided not to be petty today. She hummed, lying down on her bed.

“Is there something you want from me? Why are you here?” (Y/N) questioned, looking at the clock.

It was 6:30 A.M. She’ll be here in the hospital until 3 P.M. She wasn’t fond of that. She needed to bury Ashley’s body and deep clean her apartment. Even though the police hopefully had no trace it was her, and hopefully they didn’t invade in her apartment and swab the place (which, they better of not considering it’d be illegal without her permission or a warrant).

Not really. Andrew thought.

He just came over as soon as he heard (Y/N) was put in the emergency unit thanks to Penelope’s big mouth. He doesn’t really know why he came here, maybe just out of curiosity to see how bad she was hurt. All humans are curious when something bad happens.

Maybe he just wanted to spend more time with her, to be happy she was here with him. It’s not like she could fight much with him, she was tired and her eyes were red.

Red eyes. Was she crying?

“I just figured I see you, since you’re here. It gives me something to do other than being stuck in that hospital bed.” Andrew spoke.

“And now you’re stuck in a hospital wheelchair.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Forget about me. Are you okay?” Andrew questioned.

“Yeah. I told you. It doesn’t hurt much.” (Y/N) lied, ignoring the pulses inside her wounds.

“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean, are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.” Andrew pointed out, leaning back in his chair as he looked at her.

(Y/N) paused, thinking. Would it be against hospital protocol to say a patient’s status or info to someone if they’re dead?

Well, you only live once. And Andrew doesn’t look like a snitch.

“Hailey died.” (Y/N) spoke. “And, her parents weren’t there to say goodbye. Really, never visited her much either.”

“That sucks…” Andrew muttered.

He’s not too sure if he could care or not. Yeah, it sucks a kid died, but why should he care about a kid he had no connection with? She died, might as well get over it.

“It happens more than I like around here. They pass without their family around.” (Y/N) spoke. “But, I just can’t stand when the parents aren’t there for their kids. They die scared, that’s no way to die, for a kid or adult.”

(Y/N) spoke, looking out her window as the sun started rising.

She wondered where Andrew’s parents were. Why aren’t they here to visit him? Do they not know he’s here? Or perhaps they don’t want to visit their child who’s a murderer…

“What shitty parents.” Andrew spoke with no filter.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled, “that’s what I think too.”

To really care about someone you don’t have any blood-relation to, must be a special kind of bond; it’s one you can choose, not one you’re born with, unlike the one Andrew and Ashley shares.

“So, where’s your parents?” Andrew questioned.

“I’m an adult, I don’t need them checking up on me.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Yeah, but, wouldn’t it be nice? A sense of security and all?” Andrew questioned.

“Well, where’s your parents?” (Y/N) retorted, a bit annoyed.

So what? It’s not like if she called them they’d come rushing to her. Her mother would care less seeing (Y/N) in a hospital again, and her father would probably go berserk and try to bring her back home where it was safe.

“Touché.” Andrew chuckled. “But I have my sister to visit me.”

(Y/N) mentally grimaced at that, doing her best to not make a face so Andrew wouldn’t question it.

Not anymore… she thought.

Her hands suddenly felt dirty again. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she hid them in the hospital blanket. Once again, Andrew was intrigued with her hands after seeing her hide them. It’s like everything she hides them, he immediately gets curious and wants to see them.

He knows of the obvious self-harm scars now, he saw those when she was sleeping. And he saw the small scars and burns from everyday life, but why care so much about them?

Maybe it’s just something you have to go through in order to understand. You can’t understand everything on the first try, especially if you have no experience in it.

Sure, he was admitted for jumping a rooftop, but that’s a bit different than self-harming. Jumping a rooftop is one clear goal; suicide. It has subcategories such as wanting to escape life, or having too many problems to run away from.

Self-harming, on the other hand, is more complex. The desire to harm yourself is there, but you don’t want to die immediately. It’s a slow steady process building up. You hurt yourself possibly because you feel ashamed, that you feel like you deserve to hurt because that’s all you’re worth. Or perhaps it’s to relieve stress or pain. There’s not always such a strong intent to die when you hurt yourself? sometimes pain is the only thing people know that they use to feel normal or detached. Perhaps they even get pressured into hurting themselves. Self-harming isn’t to die, it’s to make yourself suffer because you feel that that’s what you need.

The question is: what is her reasoning?

The question left him wondering, he was almost compelled to answer, but she didn’t look to be in a good mood, so he decided against it.

(Y/N)’s eyes trailed to the digital recorder on her bedside. Doctor Ryan had left it on her bedside earlier, but he didn’t explain what was on it. She reached over and grabbed it, studying it.

It was a shiny silver recorder, with a slot for polaroid photos to slip out of. (Y/N) turned on the camera, pressing a button to the camera roll. The camera roll opened, multiple short videos at least 10 or 20 seconds showing.

She clicked on one and turned it on, seeing a video of one of her patients. They had black hair and black eyes, sitting in their hospital bed with an IV needle in her arm and bandages around her head. She recently had surgery for a tumor in her brain, now resting in bed.

“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! I heard you were doing unwell and I wanted to say please get better and visit me when you’re healthy!” the patient smiled.

(Y/N) chuckled, a smile plastered on her face as she looked at the footage. Andrew wheeled his way over to her side, curious to what she was smiling at. He rested his arm on the bedside, leaning over and looking at the footage.

(Y/N) moved the camera in the center of them so they both could see. She clicked the next video, pressing play.

A boy with brown hair looked at the camera, confused. “What do I say?”

“Say get better.” Doctor Ryan whispered from behind the camera.

“Get better.” The boy spoke.

“Now add more to it, say nice things.” Doctor Ryan whispered, resisting the urge to chuckle.

“Nice things.” The kid spoke.

“No. What do you like about Nurse (L/N).” Doctor Ryan spoke, now using his normal volume instead of whispering.

“I like that she’s nice.” The kid smiled.

“Now say it to the camera.” Doctor Ryan pushed.

“I like that you’re nice, camera.” The boy smiled, one of his front teeth were missing, only adding to the cuteness.

“Ah, close enough.” Doctor Ryan chuckled, ending the video.

(Y/N) giggled at the video while Andrew remained unfazed. She clicked the next video, pressing play. There was a girl inside Doctor Ryan’s office, there for an appointment. She was a frequent regular for common colds, so (Y/N) recognized her instantly.

“Hi, Ms. (L/N)! Please get better soon, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting is too messy! I like yours better!” she smiled.

“Hey! It’s not messy, you just can’t read the prescriptions because it’s long words!” Doctor Ryan laughed.

“Still bad.” The kid smiled.

“Oh whatever.” Doctor Ryan chuckled from behind the camera, ending the video.

The kid was right, Doctor Ryan’s handwriting was bad. The kid would try to read the prescriptions on the paper but couldn’t read the big messy words, so (Y/N) would just simply write “cold medicine” so the girl could read it.

(Y/N) smiled, going through more and more videos as she chuckled and grinned at the kids, their thoughts and feelings, and seeing their current statuses.

She eventually got to the last video, the caption above saying it was recorded just eight hours ago, when (Y/N) was still sleeping in the hospital after surgery.

“Hi, Ms. (L/N)!” the patient with blonde hair smiled, revealing to be Hailey, lively and well.

“I heard you’re unwell and I hope you get better really soon! I can’t wait to see you again and to read the books you lend me. Please get well soon, I miss you already!” Hailey smiled.

“Wow, she looked to be getting better.” Andrew commented, pointing at the screen. “I wonder what happened…”

Even though Hailey was lively and well, anybody with medical knowledge would know that she was doing bad.

“Terminal lucidity.” (Y/N) answered. “Sometimes before you die, your brain acts out on a last defense. You gain more energy and strength; but it’s fruitless.” She explained.

“Oh… that blows…” Andrew muttered.

No wonder she seemed much more vocal and confident today than she did yesterday. He wondered if he died, would he act like that too before kicking the bucket? That must hurt for the loved ones who don’t understand.

“It does…” (Y/N) sighed, her mind going blank as she stared out in the distance.

When things become too much, it’s better not to think and just go on auto-pilot. It’s how (Y/N) went through her life when things became too much.

It’s unhealthy, she knows that, but it helps her cope with reality.

She turned off the camera screen, burning a hole into her lap as she looked at the black screen. She spaced out, going motionless.

Andrew noticed, unsure whether to speak up or not. She was obviously feeling distraught and he wasn’t sure if she should be wallowing in her feelings or not.

Auto-pilot took over and decided it wanted her to cry. Tears started pouring down her face before she knew it, only causing Andrew to shift uncomfortably in his chair. He sighed, grabbing her hand and holding it.

“Hey… it’s okay.” Andrew spoke awkwardly.

“No, it’s not.” She spoke, her voice cracking. “All these kids, they shouldn’t have to go through this so young. They shouldn't be in pain or dying.”

It’s admirable, her care for others. It must take a good heart to do that, always worrying about others instead of herself. Andrew wondered if he was like that before all this happened. Was he a good person before he jumped and lost most of his memory?

No, probably not. This is reality, not a dream. He doubts that he was a good person, judging by the way he acted with Ashley the past three months he could remember. His parents ignored his calls, his girlfriend broke up with him on the phone, and he killed multiple people and even ate his neighbor!

Yeah, definitely not a good person.

“There, there…” Andrew muttered awkwardly, squeezing her hand hesitantly. “Sometimes things just happen?”

“But they shouldn’t happen to kids. They’ve been brought in this world just to get taken out when life has barely even started for them. These poor kids.” She cried, squeezing Andrew’s hand tightly for comfort. “They shouldn’t be wanted to die so early on. They should be enjoying life, not wondering when it’ll end.”

Normally, she’d just hide her feelings or bottle it up until she got home, but she can’t even go home and cry because she has a body to bury and a apartment to clean.

Life just keeps piling up on her more and more. It feels like a never ending cycle of pain. The only time she even feels happy now in reality, without sleeping, is seeing kids happy and smiling. How can she be happy if they keep dying? How can she be happy if these kids keep getting their happiness robbed?

Andrew contemplated what he should do. Should he let her vent? Should he try and comfort her more? Should he offer her to shut up and shove advice down her throat?

He decided it was probably best to just comfort her, he’d rather not see her cry. She can be emotional outside of his vision. As much as he likes this nurse, he hates sensitive people; maybe he just doesn’t like seeing someone he favors crying.

Andrew sighed, reaching over and placing both his hands on her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Hey, don’t cry.” He spoke. “It doesn’t look good on you, you know?”

(Y/N) sniffled as she tried to speak. The muscles in her throat felt restricting, preventing her from putting them to use, so she only just shook her head.

“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?” Andrew pointed out, wiping the tears into her skin.

(Y/N) nodded, unsure of where he was trying to go with this.

“So, she knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?” Andrew questioned. “I think it would just worry her about you. You wouldn’t want her to worry about you, would you?”

(Y/N) shook her head, her shoulders shaking from her sobs.

"You were there for her when no one else was? Isn't that all that matters in a kid's final moments?" Andrew questioned.

Andrew's right, at least they didn't die alone. Dying alone must be one of the worst ways to die, alone to succumb to your own thoughts and regrets of what could've happen and what did. It must be worse slowly deteriorating over time, at least dying quick you wouldn't be alone with your thoughts, but dying alone just leaves your thoughts, which slowly fade over time the more and more you stop living and just start existing, before even you lose that too.

Yeah, being alone sucks, (Y/N) can vouch for that. Coming home to an empty house with nobody to greet you, eating meals alone, waking up alone and going to sleep alone, shopping alone. It's kind of like dying alone in one way. You're just waiting for that time to come when eventually you stop doing those other things, so you just go on autopilot and wait. Of course, she could easily change all that by dating someone or getting a pet for at home, but it's just so exhausting trying to find a good person to spend the rest of your life with.

There's a reason so many people are single in the dating pool. Besides, she doubts anyone would want to date her with her work schedule; she sleeps in the day and either works at night or stays up at night on her days off. Let's not forget how she's constantly tired and depressed, dating someone like her would be such a buzzkill, you'd have to be desperate; at least that's what her mother said to her last time they met up for dinner.

(Y/N)’s tears stopped, realizing Andrew was right. Hailey wouldn’t want her crying, and if (Y/N) died, she wouldn’t want to be sad either.

(Y/N)’s sadness was soon replaced with embarrassment once she realized she was crying. Crying in front of a man and have the audacity to rely on him for her own emotions. It only makes it worse that he was her patient. This must be wrong in some way to be touching her patient like this, considering Andrew isn’t in any need of reassurance she should be providing as his nurse.

She pushed him away rather quickly, wiping her own tears out of her eyes instead of him doing it for her. Andrew looked confused, mentally wondering if he did something wrong.

Why the sudden change?

(Y/N) adverted her eyes from his face, feeling childish and insecure for crying in front of someone. Even if he was pretty handsome to her, she’d rather not see the pity, or any other sort of expression on his face.

Andrew felt a bit annoyed at the sudden change. He was just holding her and comforting her. She was even leaning against him and crying into his chest! Why did she suddenly push him away? Why did she suddenly not want him anymore?

His eye unconsciously twitched, showing his mild annoyance as a tinge of insecurity washed over him. Before he could question the sudden change of heart, the door opened, Penelope walking into the room.

Penelope’s face brightened once she saw (Y/N), before it dropped noticing Andrew. Penelope suddenly became skittish, playing with her fingers as she avoided Andrew’s gaze (glare).

“Um… Mr. Graves, you’re not supposed to be here at night. It’s protocol for patients to be in their rooms in the night.” Penelope muttered, her green eyes staring down at the white tiles. “Should I escort you back to your room?”

“No.” He spoke quickly, wanting nothing to do with Penelope.

Andrew looked back at (Y/N), his gaze softening just a bit as he looked a bit concerned for her. He didn’t want to leave her. What if she needed help with something? What if she cried some more? What if she needed him?

Andrew mentally groaned, conflicted with his emotions. He unlocked his wheelchair and wheeled to the door, Penelope stepping to the side so he could pass by her.

“You can come back during visiting hours.” Penelope added quietly, resulting in a harsh glare from Andrew.

If only looks could kill.

Penelope watched as Andrew left the room, before she closed the door behind her for privacy.

“Gosh, he’s just so intimidating…” Penelope groaned, taking a seat in the room’s guest chair.

“He’s not so bad…” (Y/N) hummed, smiling.

(Y/N)’s not too sure why Penelope’s afraid of Andrew. Sure, he’s a man, but he’s not really intimidating. Perhaps she’s grown desensitized to him and his menacing aura.

Or you know, perhaps she just likes red flags. A killer cannibal certainly is a red flag, but that’s just a theory.

Besides, what’s he gonna do with two broken legs? Punch her? Penelope just has to climb up on the hospital bed or take the stairs.

Penelope took in (Y/N)’s appearance, a frown making way on her face.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she spoke, the words sounding degrading enough, especially after (Y/N) was just crying a few minutes ago. "Who could do such a thing to you?"

"Who knows..." (Y/N) muttered, ignoring the sudden shock of anger shooting through her.

She looked at Andrew. Why did Penelope look at Andrew? Yeah, she was searching for him to bring him back to his room, but did she have to advert her eyes and mutter like a damn school girl?

The sudden jealousy pissed (Y/N) off, why was she acting like this? Why did she care? What does Penelope even want?

"Did you need something?" (Y/N) questioned, not doing too well to hide her annoyance.

Luckily, Penelope was a bit oblivious, yet still seemed a bit on edge.

"Oh, sorry... Well, before I speak, how do you feel? Do you need anything? Food or water? Painkillers?" Penelope questioned.

"I'm doing fine..." (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth as she smiled.

"Good. Well, did you hear the news about that patient? Andrew Graves?" Penelope questioned.

"What about him?" (Y/N) questioned, glancing at Penelope suspiciously as another volt of jealousy shot through her.

"Well, I did some digging online, and I found out he's wanted!" Penelope spoke, her voice a bit too loud for her liking.

"So?" (Y/N) questioned, already knowing this information, before she quickly switched up her attitude, realizing that wasn't an appropriate social response. "Wait, what? Wanted? Like, by the police?"

"Yes!" Penelope nodded, leaning closer to (Y/N) in her chair as she spoke. "Wanted for murder! They said he killed four people at their old apartment. Him and his sister, Ashley. They even said one of the bodies had meat cut off it and it was cut up in pieces! They found DNA and blood in their kitchen, on the counter and pots and silverware!"

Well, the police only has to worry about one sibling now... (Y/N) thought to herself.

(Y/N) stayed silent, unsure of what a functioning human would respond to this. Honestly, she's grown quite comfortable with the fact Andrew is a killer and a cannibal.

"I mean, that's just... vile! And disgusting! How could someone do that?" Penelope questioned, her face turning as green as her eyes.

"Why did they do it?" (Y/N) questioned.

"H-huh?" Penelope questioned, surprised. "What do you mean? They kill four people and ate one! They must be insane or something."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. We don't know why they did it." (Y/N) spoke. "Penelope, we should know better than anyone else that people act out for reasons. We're nurses, we deal with mental breakdowns and patients lashing out all the time, and we know they have motives behind it."

"Yeah, but that's a medical setting, when something's generally wrong with them! Andrew seems stable enough!" Penelope spoke. "He must've knew what he was doing!"

"Peer pressure?" (Y/N) suggested. "Perhaps his act is a facade? We don't know a person's thoughts or feelings. For all we knew, they could've been in a dire situation. I mean, who just randomly kills four people in one day and run? Something must've happened."

Penelope looked frustrated, her bottom lip pouting as she clenched her fists. "And? So? Why should we care?! He killed four people, you know! We need to call the police!"

"No! You can't!" (Y/N) quickly shot up from the bed, flinching as she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach where her wound was.

"What? Why not?" Penelope questioned, surprised at the sudden outburst as she leaned back in her chair. "Why are you defending him? We're nurses! We need to help protect people. He could hurt someone else here!"

"No! You can't take him!" (Y/N) shouted, throwing the bedsheets off her and rushing to Penelope, ignoring the pain shooting throughout her body as she placed both of her hands on the arm chairs, caging Penelope in. "You can't do that! I won't let you."

"W-what? W-why are you acting like this?" Penelope squeaked, her hands pressing together as she curled herself up in a ball, sinking herself down in her chair as she stared up at (Y/N), frightened.

(Y/N) paused, realizing the sudden position she put herself in. Damn it! Why did she just lash out like that? She's never like this! Why can't she just let Andrew go? She needed to think of something quick to diffuse this situation and convince Penelope not to report Andrew.

"Don't you understand? The police are just going to keep him here until he heals up to where he can go to jail. If you report him now and he's aware of that, he might snap and actually hurt people." (Y/N) spoke, trying to come up with a false reason. "You'll just enrage him and give him a motive to hurt others. He hasn't injured anyone severely these past days, only a few books and hits thrown because he was afraid of us recognizing him and calling the police."

Penelope looked uncertain, contemplating whether she should listen to the younger and injured nurse in front of her.

"B-but—" Penelope started, but was cut off by (Y/N).

"Penelope, please. Don't be an idiot. Don't do something so unfathomably stupid!" (Y/N) pleaded.

Just make the idea look stupid. Just act like Penelope's the one being insensible.

"He could really hurt someone if the police come and tell him he's arrested. They're just going to explain that he's under arrest, and will be escorted to prison once the doctors deem him healthy enough to go. He'll just be here, drugged up from his surgeries, and that could cause him to not think sensibly, it'll make him more of a hazard to others. We can't afford that, Penelope." (Y/N) explained.

Penelope adverted her eyes, (Y/N)'s words seeming to sink into her as she started to appear ashamed of what she was previously proposing.

"So... what now?" Penelope questioned. "He's not going to be able to stay here long anyways. We have no emergency contacts to contact for him. He has no records inside our hospital. He can't even fill out any of our forms or such because of his amnesia, either that or he's pretending to not to know the information." Penelope explained. "He doesn't have health insurance or can't remember it, and I doubt he can afford the hospital bills if he can't even remember anything! He probably doesn't even know his banking information if he has it!"

“If we tell him that, it’ll be bothersome…” (Y/N) explained. “I mean… he could get mad and hurt someone.”

“Exactly!” Penelope exclaimed. “I-I don’t know what to do! Should we bring this up to HR or the head nurse?”

“No.” (Y/N) spoke quickly. “I-I mean, c’mon? It’s hard to trust these so-called professionals. The hospital is notorious for its accidents and fatalities. I mean, we're all working here because we were rejected by other hospitals because of our questionable backgrounds and court filings! For gods sake, there’s an advisement a town from here that has a doctor suggesting anesthesia for depression and it has our hospital name on it! We can't trust the board for anything!"

“But… what can we do?” Penelope questioned, feeling hopeless.

“We’re the smartest nurses in this whole shithole,” (Y/N) spoke.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but she needed Penelope to believe her, or at least stop her from reporting Andrew so that he could escape.

Why does she care so much about a wrongdoer? He should be in prison, he should pay for what he’s done, but for some reason there’s a stabbing sensation in her chest at just the thought of not seeing him again. The feeling was almost as painful as the bleeding wound she currently had.

She needed new bandages, she’s been putting too much stress her body. She would ask Penelope, but she’d rather not stick around with Penelope any longer. Sure, having Penelope around would make it so she’s less likely to snitch, but there’s also the possibility that she could potentially catch (Y/N)’s unnatural behavior and go back on her words.

"I-I just... what if we're making the wrong choice? I can't stand the thought that someone can get hurt." Penelope spoke.

(Y/N) almost felt sorry for the young nurse. The nurse was only three years older than her, yet she seems utterly more helpless in life than (Y/N). Penelope has a bad luck streak with everything. She's terrible at math and doing her taxes. She's terrible at thinking for herself. She's grown up from foster home to foster home. Every relationship she's been in has been disastrous.

(Y/N) would care if Penelope didn’t have such an unhealthy obsession about finding love. The whole reason she became a nurse was to try and nurse someone to health so they’d love her; it’s almost sad, really.

“I just can’t believe it…” Penelope groaned, burying her face into her hands. “Why are the cute guys always so unstable?”

Nevermind. (Y/N) doesn’t feel sad for her at all. Absolutely no pity. Void of emotion. She was almost considering the idea of murdering Penelope. Seriously, you're caring about how cute a guy is despite him being a major threat to your life? Should you really be focusing on a cannibal's looks.

(Y/N) decided to bite her tongue. There was no reason to start a fight (that, and maybe she's just a bit guilty of this as well...) It still didn't stop the bubbling pot boiled inside her stomach and chest as she glared at Penelope though.

“Penelope, can you go find my nurse? I need a new change of bandages.” (Y/N) grumbled, desperate for Penelope to leave her as she sat back down on her bed, wincing as she overstrained herself once more.

Maybe cornering and intimidating a person while injured isn’t the best course of action.

“O-oh, right! Sure!” Penelope spoke, popping up from her makeshift ball as she stood up from her chair. “Whats your nurse’s name? I’ll go find them.”

“I don’t know their name. I didn’t met them, only my doctor.” (Y/N) explained.

“Oh, okay then. Well, I’ll ask around and see if I can find them.” Penelope spoke, walking to the door. “Door open or closed?”

“Close it.” (Y/N) answered.

Penelope nodding, closing the door and leaving (Y/N) to her own devices. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief that Penelope was gone; however, there were other things to worry about.

She needed to figure out a way to solve the Andrew situation. She could talk to Andrew herself and see if he has any insurance. She might be able to judge if he’s lying or not about knowing anything, if Andrew’s a good liar or not, that is.

She almost felt compelled to leave her room and go to Andrew’s. She could tell him what happens; no health insurance means paying the full entirety of the bills, which could be five digits to possibly even six after all his car, special requests/needs, surgeries, and days he’s spent admitted.

It’s fine… she just needs to sleep. She can deal with it another day. If she sleeps now, time will pass quicker and she can get discharged.

She closed her eyes, seeing nothing but darkness as she used her drawback to escapism once more, distancing herself from reality as she did her best not to think about her patient.

And chapter 5 is done! I do apologize for it being so long, I wasn't planning on it being so long but I guess I did get a bit carried away... Chapter 6 will have quite a bit of drama and new characters being introduced! Now I just have to get chapter 6 done... which I'm unsure of when will be done, but it's in the works already! Thank you for your patience and for reading, and I'm excited for you all to see the development of (Y/N) and Andrew!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, current chapter, chapter 6 (in the works)