#last time someone gave me a meltdown that hardcore I cut them off for a month. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 2

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: Your second day as an intern continues.....

You were trying not to make it obvious that you were hurrying down the hall. But you were pretty sure you were failing miserably. As you continued, without looking back, a hand suddenly grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into an on-call room.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, stumbling through the door. You looked to see that it was Steve—Dr. Rogers. “Dr. Rogers—“

“Dr. Rogers?” He repeated, sounding a little hurt. “This morning it was Steve. Now it’s Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Rogers, we should pretend it never happened.”

“What never happened, you sleeping with me last night? Or you throwing me out this morning? Because both are fond memories I’d like to hold onto.”

“No. There will be no memories. I'm not the girl in the bar anymore, and you're not the guy. This can't exist. You get that, right?”

“You took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it.”

“I did not take—“

“I was drunk, vulnerable and good-looking and you took advantage.”

You gave him a tight smile. “Okay, I was the one who was drunk, and you are not that good-looking.”

“Well, maybe not today. But last night, last night I was very good-looking. I had my blue shirt on, my good-looking shirt, you took advantage.”

“I did not take—“

“You want to take advantage again? Say Friday night?”

“Did you just— No! You're an attending. And I'm your intern. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve seen me naked.”

Steve simply smirked. “Well, I have.”

“Dr. Rogers. This is inappropriate. Has that ever occurred to you?”

You quickly left the room, leaving Steve staring at the shutting door with a sigh. He stepped out and over to the nearest nurses station.

“Oh, no,” another doctor came up, handing papers over to a nurse behind a desk. “I’ve seen that look before… I know that look, I think I invented it.”

“Oh shut it, Tony,” Steve said, coming up beside him.

“You know you—“

“I said shut it, didn’t I?”

“Okay, okay.” Tony held his hands up in defense. “I’ll shut it. Just don’t come whining to me when it all blows to hell.”

~~~

Deciding you needed to get your mind off Dr. Rogers, you went up to the OR gallery. You were sitting with other interns, watching Scott Lang prep for surgery.

“He’s going to faint,” one of the interns commented. “He’s a fainter.”

“Naaah, code brown,” another one added. “Right in his pants.”

“He’s all about the flops. He’s going to sweat himself unsterile.”

“Ten bucks says he messes up the McBird,” a third one said.

“Twenty says he cries,” Natasha, who you were seated by, said.

“I’ll put twenty on a total meltdown,” the second intern added.

“Fifty says he pulls the whole thing off,” you interrupted, fed up. Everyone looked at you, silent, while your eyes remained on Scott. “That’s one of us down there. The first one of us. Where’s your loyalty?”

There was a brief pause before Natasha continued, “Seventy five says he can’t even ID the appendix.”

“I’ll take that action,” Val responded, others agreeing.

“Okay, Lang,” Maria Hill said in the OR, which you could hear in the gallery. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Here it comes,” you whispered, trying to be hopeful.

“Scalpel,” Scott requested, hand out.

“Scalpel,” a nurse replied, putting the instrument in his hand.

As Scott took it, the interns cheered from in the gallery. Dr. Hill quickly motioned for them to shut up.

“That Hill, she’s trouble,” Val commented, causing some interns to laugh.

“More pressure,” Hill advised as Scott got ready to cut. “Human flesh is a tough shell, dig in.”

“Pick-ups,” Scott requested after cutting.

“Pick-ups,” the nurse responded.

“Clamp.”

“Met some bone. I’m there.”

“Damn, he got the peritoneum and he opened him up,” a male intern commented.

“I told you,” you gloated. “He’s going to pull it off.”

“Scalpel,” Scott requested.

“Scalpel,” the nurse responded.

All of the interns watched with bated breath as Scott preformed the procedure.

“Appendix is out,” Scott stated, tossing it into a tray while the interns cheered.

“Not bad,” Hill commented.

“Thank you.”

“Now all you have to do is invert the stump into the chum and simultaneously pull up on the purse-strings but be careful not to—“ a rip sound came through “—break them.” Hill groaned. “He ripped the cecum. Got a bleeder. You’re filling with stool, what do you do now?”

“Uh.. uh….”

“Think. You start the suction, and you start digging for those purse-strings before she bleeds to death. Coulson, give him a clamp.”

“BP’s dropping,” a nurse informed.

“He’s choking,” Natasha stated.

“Come on, Scott,” you whispered.

“Today,” Hill urged, getting irritated. “Pull your balls out of your back pocket, let's go. What are you waiting for, suction?” Beeping started.

“Getting too low folks,” the nurse said. “Dr. Hill…”

“Get out of the way,” Hill said, pushing Scott over to take his place. “Pansy-ass idiot. Get him out of here. Suction… Clamp.”

“007,” the male intern from before stated.

“007,” another intern repeated. “Yep, that’s a total 007.”

“What’s 007 mean?” Val asked.

“Licensed to kill,” you answered.

~~~

A few hours later, you and the rest of your intern group had found a basement hallway with empty beds along it. You all decided it was a nice place to lay low for a moment.

“007,” Scott muttered. “They're calling me 007, aren't they?”

“No one’s calling you 007,” you and Clint responded.

“I was on the elevator and Quill whispered 007.”

“Oh, how many times do we have go through this, Scott, five, ten?” Natasha was fed up. “Give me a number or else I'm going to hit you.”

“Quill whispered 007 and everyone laughed.”

“He wasn’t talking about you,” Val said.

“You sure?”

“Would we lie to you?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“007 is a state of mind,” Natasha said.

“So says the girl who finished top of her class as Stanford.”

All of their pagers went off, causing them to look down at them.

“Oh man,” you grumbled. “It’s 911 for Savannah Chase. I gotta go.” You ran off, leaving the rest of them there.

“Maybe I should've gone into geriatrics,” Scott continued. “No one minds when you kill an old person.”

“Surgery is hot, it's the Marines, it's the macho, it's hostile, it's hardcore,” Natasha said. “Geriatrics is for freaks who live with their mothers and never have sex.”

“I’ve got to get my own place.”

“Same,” Clint agreed.

~~~

Running into Savannah’s room, you immediately noticed that she was sitting up, reading a magazine.

“Took you long enough,” Savanah said.

“You’re okay?” You huffed, trying to catch your breath. “The nurse paged me 911.”

“I had to go all Exorcist to get her to even pick up the phone.”

“Wait. There’s—There’s nothing wrong with you?”

“I’m bored.” She shrugged. “I thought you could help me.”

“You little— I’m not your personal assistant.”

“You don't have to wig out. The pageant's supposed to be on cable, but this crappy hospital doesn't get the channel. If that cow Casey Childs is gonna walk off with my crown, I have to see it. Can you call someone?”

“Okay. This is an actual hospital. There are sick people here. Go to sleep, and stop wasting my time.”

“But I can't sleep. My head's all full.”

“That's called thinking. Go with it.”

You stormed off. If this is how the patients were all the time, you didn’t know how much longer you could last. And it was only your first day, of your intern year.

~~~

Hours later, you were standing at a nurses station, working on paperwork for a patient, while you overheard another conversation.

“4B’s got post-op pneumonia,” it was a male intern from before. “Let’s start antibiotics.”

“Are you sure that’s the right diagnosis?” A male nurse questioned.

“Well I don't know, I'm only an intern. Here's an idea, why don't you go spend four years in med school and let me know if it's the right diagnosis. She's short of breath, she's got fever, she's post-op. Start the antibiotics.” The intern walked over to you, clearly checking you out. “I hate nurses. I’m Peter. I’m with Sam Wilson, you’re with Gamora, right?”

“She may not have pneumonia, you know. She could be splinting, or have a PE.”

“Like I said, I hate nurses.” Peter began to walk away.

“What did you just say? Did you just call me a nurse?”

“Well, if the white cap fits…”

You groaned as your pager beeped, turning away to not have to see Peter anymore. “Damn it, Savannah.” You left, not an any hurry to get to Savannah’s room.

“She seeing anybody?” Peter asked Clint.

“I don’t know,” Clint replied.

Peter whistled. “She’s hot.”

“I'm friends with her. I mean, kinda friends, I mean, not, you know, actually friends, not exactly, but we're tight. We hang out. I mean, really only just today—“

“Dude.”

“—but—“

“Dude. Stop talking.”

~~~

You took your time getting to Katie’s room. As you walked up the hallway towards her room, you noticed nurses rushing in. That’s when you finally picked up your pace.

“What took you so long?” A blonde female nurse yelled as you entered the room, overwhelmed by the sight before you.

“She's having multiple grand mal seizures, now how do you want to proceed?” A male nurse asked. You froze at the doorway, unable to move. “Dr. L/N? Are you listening to me? She's got Diazepam, 2mg Diazepam, I just gave her a second ago, Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do. Dr. L/N!”

Still panicking, you picked up Katie’s chart. “Okay, she’s full on prazepam?” You asked.

“She’s had 4mg,” the female nurse responded.

“Did you page Dr. Gamora and Dr. Rogers?”

“Yes!”

“The prazepam’s not working,” the male nurse stated.

“Phenobarbital, load her with Phenobarbital,” you ordered, still struggling to move from your spot. The scene before you, extremely overwhelming.

“Pheno’s in.”

“No change,” a third nurse said.

“You paged Dr. Rogers?” You repeated.

“I just told you—“

“Well page him again! Stat!”

“What do you want to do? Dr. L/N, you need to tell us what you want to do!” The monitors started beeping. “Heart’s stopped!”

“Code blue, code blue! Code blue, code blue!” The first nurse shouted.

The nurses pulled out the defibrillators as your brain finally began to work again. You quickly took the defibrillators away from the nurse.

“Charge pulse of two hundred,” you ordered.

“Charged,” the nurse responded. “Clear.” You used the defibrillators on Katie’s chest, only to get no response. “Still defib. Nothing. 19 seconds.”

“Charge to 300.”

“300.” You tried again, only to fail. “27 seconds.”

“Charge to 360.” You tried again, with still nothing. “Come on, Savannah.”

“49 seconds.”

“At 60 seconds you’re supposed to admit her—“

“Charge again!” You ordered, the nurse not following. “Charge again.” The nurse does and you try again. On the monitor you see Savannah’s blood pressure (BP) register. “Anything?”

“I see sinus rhythm,” the first nurse replied.

“Blood pressure’s coming up,” the second nurse added.

“Alright now. Pressure’s returning. Grid’s coming back—“

“What the hell happened?” Dr. Rogers asked, running into the room.

“She had a seizure,” you responded, “and—“

“A seizure?”

“Her heart stopped.”

“You were supposed to be monitoring her.”

“I checked on her and she—“

“I got it.” Dr. Rogers started checking Savannah. “Just—just go.” You turned away, heading out. “Someone give me her chart, please?”

As you walked out of the room, you weren’t feeling the greatest. You were still overwhelmed and disappointed in yourself. Gamora was waiting for you not far outside the room.

“You get a 911, you page me immediately,” Gamora stated, “not in the five minutes it takes you to get to the emergency, immediately, you are on my team and if somebody dies it's my ass.” You kept walking, needing some fresh air. “You hear me, L/N?”

“Y/N?” Natasha called out.

You kept walking, ignoring everyone. Natasha followed you as you exited the main doors. It was raining outside, but you didn’t care. You leaned over and threw up on the patch of grass outside the hospital. Natasha watched from the doorway. Taking a deep breath, you wiped your mouth and headed back for the doors.

“If you tell anyone, ever…” You threatened Natasha as you entered the hospital.

~~~

Just after hour 24, all the interns were paged to the conference room. Looking around, you could tell everyone was exhausted. Natasha was sitting next to you, you furrowed your brows in confusion as you watched her.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m suturing a banana,” Natasha answered, “with the vain hope that it wakes up my brain.” Scott laughed from beside them. “What’re you smiling at, 007?” Scott immediately stopped laughing. “I’m sorry, I get mean when I’m tired.”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Scott said. “I comforted a family, and I get to hang out in the OR today. All is well.”

“Does anybody know why we’re here?” Clint asked.

“We’re probably all getting fired,” Val suggested. “And we’ve only been here for 24 hours. They’re going to get rid of the whole class and start fresh.”

“Well good morning,” Dr. Rogers greeted as he entered the room with Gamora. “I'm going to do something pretty rare for a surgeon, I'm going to ask interns for help. I've got this kid, Savannah Chase. Right now, she's a mystery. She doesn't respond to her meds. Labs are clean, scans are pure, but she's having seizures. Grand mal seizures with no visible cause. She's a ticking clock. She's going to die, if I don't make a diagnosis. Which is where you come in. I can't do it alone. I need your extra minds, extra eyes, I need you to play detective, I need you to find out why Savannah is having seizures. I know you're tired, you're busy, you've got more work than you could possibly handle. I understand. So, I'm going to give you an incentive. Whoever finds the answer rides with me. Savannah needs surgery. You get to do what no interns get to do. Scrub in to assist on an advanced procedure. Dr Gamora's going to hand you Savannah's chart. The clock is ticking fast, people. If we're going to save Savannah's life, we have to do it soon.”

All the interns grabbed copies of her chart and went their separate ways. You stayed sitting at the conference room table, trying to avoid helping with Savannah’s case.

“Hey, I want in on Rogers’ surgery,” Natasha stated, turning to you. "You've been the intern on Savannah since the start. You want to work together? We find the answer, we have a fifty-fifty chance of scrubbing in.”

“I'll work with you, but I don't want in on the surgery,” you replied. “You can have it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the biggest opportunity any intern will ever get.”

“I don’t want to spend any more time with Rogers than I have to.”

“What do you have against Rogers?”

“If we find the answer, the surgery’s yours. Do you want to work together or not?”

Natasha grinned, nodding her head. “Oh yeah.”

~~~

“Well, she doesn't have anoxia, chronic renal failure or acidosis,” Natasha stated while you and her were seated at a table in the medical center’s library. “It's not a tumor because her CT's clean. Are you seriously not going to tell me why you won't work with Rogers?”

“Nope,” you replied. “What about infection?”

“No. There's no white count, she has no ceteal lesions, no fevers, nothing in her spinal tap, just tell me.”

“You can't comment, make a face, or react in any way.” Natasha gave a slight nod. “We had sex.”

Natasha’s mouth opened in surprise before she quickly closed it. “What about an aneurysm?” She continued, trying to do as you had asked.

“No blood on the CT, and no headaches.”

“Okay. There's no drug use, uh, no pregnancy, no trauma… was he good? I mean, he looks like he would be, was it any good?”

“What are the answers?” You ignored her questions. The truth was, he was good. REALLY good. The best sex you’ve had in, well, ever. “What if no one comes up with anything?”

“You mean if she dies?”

“Yeah.”

“This is gonna sound really bad, but I really wanted that surgery.”

“She's just never going to get the chance to turn into a person. The sum total of her existence will be almost winning Miss Teen whatever. You know what her pageant talent is?”

"They have talent?”

“Rhythmic gymnastics.” You both laughed.

“Oh, come on.”

“What is rhythmic gymnastics? I don't know - I can't even say it, I don't know what it is.”

“Isn’t it like something with a ball, and a—“ You suddenly went still, realizing what was going on with Savannah. “What? Y/N, what?”

“Get up!” You jumped up. “Come on!”

You explained to Natasha, as you both ran to find Dr. Rogers, that you believed she had an aneurysm.

“—the only thing she could possibly need is a—“ Natasha was saying as you found Dr. Rogers heading onto an elevator. “Oh, oh, Dr. Rogers! Just one moment, um, uh, Savannah competes in beauty pageants—“

“I know that,” Dr. Rogers responded. “But we have to save her life anyway.”

“Okay, she has no headaches, no neck pain, her CT's clean, there's no medical proof of an aneurysm—“

“Right.” Dr. Rogers stepped into the elevator.

“—but what if she has an aneurysm anyway?”

“There are no indicators.”

“Ah,” Natasha stopped the elevator, “but she twisted her ankle, a few weeks ago when she was practicing for the pageant—“

“Look, I appreciate you're trying to help, but—“

“This is not helping!” A doctor in the elevator shouted.

“She fell,” you tried. “When she twisted her ankle, she fell.”

“It was no big deal, not even a bump on the head,” Natasha explained, “you know she got right back up, iced her ankle and everything was fine, it was a fall so minor her doctor didn't even think to mention it when I was taking her history, but she did fall.”

“Well, you know the chances that a minor fall could burst an aneurysm, one in a million!” Dr. Rogers said. “Literally.”

The elevator door finally was allowed to close. You and Natasha looked at each other with a sigh before turning away. You’re caught by surprise when you hear the elevator ding. Turning back around, you see Dr. Rogers stepping out.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Where?” Natasha asked.

“To find out if Savannah’s one in a million.”

~~~

Getting Savannah’s scans done and back seemed like an eternity for the three of you. When the scans were finally up, it turned out that you had been right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dr. Rogers commented.

“There is it,” the tech operating the scan pointed at the dark spots on the monitor.

“It's minor, but it's there. It's a cerebachnoid haemorrhage. She's bleeding into her brain. Let’s go.” Dr. Rogers led them out of the room and down the hall. “She could've gone her entire life without it ever being a problem. One tap in the right spot—“

“And explode,” Natasha said.

“Exactly. Now I have to fix it. You two did great work. Love to stay and kiss your asses, but I gotta tell Savannah s parents she's having surgery.” They reached the nurses station. “Savannah Chase's chart, please.”

“Here you go,” a nurse said, handing it over.

“Oh, and Dr. Rogers,” Natasha said, "you said that you’d pick someone to scrub in if we helped.”

“Oh, yes, right,” Dr. Rogers responded. “Um, I'm sorry I can't take you both, it's going to be a full house. Y/N, I'll see you in OR.” You looked at Dr. Rogers, who’s blue eyes felt like they could see right through you. Natasha was also looking at you, waiting for you to give her the surgery. “Good,” Dr. Rogers continued, “thank you.” Then he took his leave.

Natasha looked back at you, clearly pissed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You said that you didn’t want to work with him anymore, that if we worked together and found the answer, you’d give me the surgery.”

“Natasha…”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Don’t Natasha me. He looked at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and you couldn’t say no! You’re already wrapped around his finger and I’m not going to be a pawn in the game.”

She stormed off. Leaving you standing there, knowing she was right.

~~~

Natasha and Val were sitting back in the empty corridor with the spare beds, again.

“Val,” Natasha complained, trying to get Val to stop making excuses for you.

“Maybe Y/N couldn’t—“

“Val!”

“I’ll tell him I changed my mind,” you said, coming into the corridor. “You can—“

“No, no, don’t do me any favors. It’s fine.”

“Natasha—“

“You know what, you did a cutthroat thing, deal with it. Don't come to me for absolution, you want to be a shark, be a shark.”

“I’m not—“

“Oh yes you are. Only it makes you feel all bad in your warm gooey places. No, screw you. I don't get picked for surgeries because I slept with my boss. You know, some of us have to earn what we get.” Natasha stormed away, again.

“Wait…” Val said from behind. “You slept with someone… who did you sleep with?!” You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Was it Stark? I’ve only met him once but he’s hot. But I’d only hit Banner and Hill too. Oh! Was it—“

“I’m not doing this.” You shook your head and walked away.

“I’ll find out soon enough!” Val laughed.

~~~

You went searching for Dr. Rogers, determined to give the surgery to Natasha. You found him shaving Savannah’s head.

“I promised I’d make her look cool,” he said upon noticing you. “Apparently being a bald beauty queen is the worst thing that happened in the history of the world.”

“Did you choose me for the surgery because I slept with you?” You quietly asked.

“Yes,” he quickly answered before a long pause. “I’m kidding.”

“I'm not going to scrub in for surgery. You should ask Natasha. She really wants it.”

“You're Savannah's doctor. And on your first day, with very little training, you helped save her life. You earned the right to follow her case to the finish. You… you shouldn't let the fact that we had sex get in the way of you taking your shot. Besides, it was very good sex. It should have given you a boost.”

“Dr. Rogers, I— ugh!” You quickly left, leaving him to chuckled to himself.

~~~

Clint and you were outside of the medical center, needing some fresh air. Clint sat on a bench as you paced in front of him.

“I wish I wanted to be a chef,” you said. “Or a ski instructor. Or a kindergarten teacher.”

“You know, I would've been a really good postal worker,” Clint said, dazed. “I'm dependable. You know, my parents tell everyone they meet that their son's a surgeon. As if it's a big accomplishment. A superhero or something. If they could see me now…”

“When I told my mother I wanted to go to medical school, she tried to talk me out of it. Said I didn't have what it takes to be a surgeon. That I'd never make it. So, the way I see it, superhero sounds pretty damn good.”

“We’re going to survive this, right?”

“We can only hope.”

~~~

You were standing at a nurses station, trying to fill in a patient chart, as Dr. Fury, the Chief of Surgery, was taking to Peter Quill, the intern.

“She’s still short of breath,” Fury stated. “Did you get an ABG or a chest film?”

“Oh, yes sir, I did,” Peter answered, a little bit too cockily.

“And what did you see?”

“Oh, well, I had a lot of patients last—“

“Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh… yes, sir.” Peter quickly pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

“From your head. Not from a book. don’t look it up, learn it. It should be in your head. Name the common causes of post-op fever.”

“Uh...the common causes of post-op…”

“Can anybody name the common causes of post-op fever?” Fury shouted to the whole floor. Everyone stopped, one girl pulling out her own notebook.

“Wind, water, wound, walking, wonder drugs,” you stated, causing everyone to look at you. “The five W’s. Most of the time it’s wind, splinting or pneumonia. Pneumonia’s easy to assume, especially if you’re too busy to do the tests.”

Fury gave Peter a pointed look before looking back at you. “What do you think’s wrong with 4B?”

“The fourth W, walking. I think she’s a promise candidate for a pulmonary ambulus.”

“How would you diagnose?”

“Spiral CT, VQ scan, provide O2, dose with Heparin, and consult for an IVC filter.”

Fury turned back to Peter. “Do exactly as she says, then tell Wilson that I want you off this case.” He turned back to you and Peter walked away. “Very impressive, Dr. L/N. Can’t wait to see more. Welcome to the gang.”

“Thank you, sir.”

~~~

You were scrubbed in and waiting in the OR with the rest of those who would be on Savannah’s surgery before Dr. Rogers was. The OR and gallery were full, wanting to watch the one in a million brain aneurysm.

“Alright everybody,” Dr. Rogers said, coming in with his red-white-and-blue scrub cap on. “It’s a beautiful night to save lives. Let’s have some fun.”

You watched in awe as Dr. Rogers performed the surgery. It was the greatest thing you had ever witnessed and you longed to be more apart of it than you were. After the surgery was over, you sat outside the OR in a happy daze.

“It was a good surgery,” Natasha said as she stopped in front of you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Natasha sat beside you, sighing. “We don't have to do that thing where I say something, and then you say something, and then somebody cries, and there's like a moment—“

“Yuck.”

“Good. You should get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“I look better than you.”

“That’s not possible.”

Natasha then took her leave. Dr. Rogers then came out of the OR. He stopped at the desk for some paperwork while you stared at him, still dazed.

“That was amazing,” you said with a shy smile.

“Mmm,” Dr. Rogers hummed in agreement, still working on the papers.

“You practice on cadavers, you observe, and you think you know what you're going to feel like standing over that table, but...that was such a high.” Dr. Rogers looked at you and nodded. “I don’t know why anybody does drugs.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

Dr. Rogers smiled back a bit. “I should go do this.”

“You should.”

He started walking backwards, unable to take his eyes off you just yet. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you around.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #gamora x reader #peter quill x reader #nick fury x reader #scott lang x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #steve rogers imagine

171 notes · View notes

angelinwhy · 5 years

Text

Date Night Goes South

Description: Y/N and Harry leave the restaurant after their date, and are swarmed by fans and paparazzi. During the chaos of it all, Y/N has an anxiety attack, and Harry has to help her.

Warnings: anxiety!

Requested by @beaconforks !

Date nights weren’t a very common occurrence for Harry, and his girlfriend Y/N.

He had a tight schedule and was always travelling, so they barely had the time to go out anywhere for a nice meal. So most of their dates would be in the comfort of their own home, whether that be being tangled between the bedsheets, or doing something as simple as making pizzas and watching a movie. It didn’t really matter to them, what they did, as being each other’s company was more than enough for the couple. But sometimes, a nice meal out was needed and highly appreciated. So that’s exactly what the couple did.

It had been a busy few months for Harry. The build up to the release of Lights Up, the song finally being released, doing promo interviews on radio stations and pre-recording performances and interviews on talk shows. Not to mention the endless travelling for a load of things - Harry had finally got a few days for himself back in London, and he had decided to spend those nights with Y/N. So there they sat, in a nice restaurant in London, as a little date night so they could have a catch up. She had missed Harry a lot, but she understood how crazy his life was, and it was nice for her to see him have fun and doing the thing that he loves most. But, she did miss him being around, and being next to her when she woke up.

“So, I saw that you pratically broke Twitter?” Y/N asks in a jokingly assuming voice, as she finishes off her dessert. Harrys looks at her with a quizzical look.

His head tilts like a confused puppy. “What?”

She scoffs. “‘Kiwi walked so that Watermelon Sugar could run’”, she references his tweet from about a week ago, that she knew for well about, she just hadn’t spoke to him about it. Once the words left her mouth, Harry smiles without showing his teeth as he eats his brownie.

“Yeah,” he starts off as he swallows his food. “It was a complete spur of the moment thing to tweet it, and I remember how mental they all went after I tweeted it. Then the like automated note thing got changed for Watermelon Sugar and they all went crazy over that too - but it’s nice to know they’re still here and waiting for me as I work on the new stuff. But yeah, I did break Twitter. The tweet has almost 700K now, which is absolutely mental,” he explains and she laughs. Stan Twitter was crazy, and Harry knew how hardcore his fans could be, due to how cryptic he could be. Whenever they caught a whiff of something that could be about new content, a new song or even the new album, it was like a fan girl witch hunt.

Though, Y/N found it fun to scroll through her timeline and just watch them all have a complete meltdown every time Harry tweets.

“I am so lucky to have a boyfriend with a pretty brain,” she jokes.

“And I’m even luckier to have a girlfriend prettier than my pretty brain,” he jokes back.

They had been dating for a good few months now, and although 6 months wasn’t that long to some, it felt like a lifetime to Harry and Y/N. She wasn’t really in love with him yet, and he her, but they both knew that if it carried on the way it was now - they would be in love with each other eventually.

Paparazzi was one of the worst things though. There had been no serious run ins with them, but a lot of the time they caugh Y/N and Harry out on the street, and followed the couple about as they bombarded them with random and completely unnecessary questions. They had done some digging on Y/N and found out about her last boyfriend, who was really quite horrible to her. So, a lot of the questions were about him and if she was ever scared that Harry would end up the same. She knew he wouldn’t. Harry was too kind, and too good to ever shame a woman in the way that her ex did. He would never dream of doing something of the sort. Y/N was lucky to have someone like him. He treated her like she deserved.

After they had finished their meal, and argued over who was going to pay the bill (Y/N paid for them as Harry paid for it all the time, although she tried to cut in most of the time so they could half it), the waiter said goodbye to them and they left the restaurant.

But they weren’t prepared for what came next.

Outside the cosy restaurant was a swarm of fans and paparazzi, there was no one to hold them back as Harry didn’t have his security around him 24/7. It was complete bedlam, and Y/N felt her chest tighten in anxiety as she looks at them all around her.

“Shit,” Harry curses in annoyance.

The fans scream as they saw Harry, and the flashes went off all around Y/N and Harry. His car was parked a little further down the street and he knew that it was going to be absolute mayhem to try and get to it without something going wrong. He turns to look at Y/N, who looked pretty scared. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell him that she had crippling anxiety. “There’s no one to hold them back, so we’re just going to have to make do with signing as many things as he can and taking photos, okay?” He tells her in a soft tone, despite the screams and asking of questions going on around the two of them. He takes her hand gently, but then grips it tightly just in case.

When he starts to walk forward, the fans crowd him and Y/N had no choice but to follow.

“Harry, what do you think of Lights Up not getting as much radio play as Sign of the Times did?!”

“Is he like your other boyfriend, Y/N?!”

“Harry, Y/N - can you sign this for me please?!”

That was all they heard, and it was deafening. Y/N looks around with fear in his eyes as her and Harry are surrounded by fans and paparazzi.

She felt her chest tighten uncomfortablly and her breathing get a little bit more rapid. It was all going on so fast, and the sounds of people yelling things down her ear and the flashing was making it so much worse that it needed to be. Hands reached out to grab her jacket and pull her in for a picture, but she had to apologise through a shaky voice and say that she couldn’t. Everything was becoming so much worse. That sick and sinking feeling bad settled in her stomach, and she started to feel dizzy. Harry was in front of her, stopping every couple of seconds to sign things and take pictures. Unfortunately, he was too much of a nice person to say no to his fans.

“Harry,” she managed to whisper softly, but he wasn’t able to hear her.

Her breathing sped up, and she felt her hands starting to shake at a scary speed. When she looked around, everything was blurred, and the flashes from the cameras were hurting her eyes.

When she realises what was happening, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Anxiety attack.

When Harry tries to move and felt the slight tug on his hand, his turns around, only to see Y/N paralysed in her spot. He looks at her with a confused look, until he saw how much she was shaking, how her eyes were darting about all over the place. And how she looked like she couldn’t breath. He moves to her, taking her face in his hands and holding it gently. “Are you alright, my love?” He asks and she couldn’t even register an answer for him.

She then felt dizzy, and almost collapsed, but Harry had a hold of her and softened the blow as she fell to the ground. Y/N felt numb as her legs completely gave in on her, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Please give her some space!” Harry yells at them all, trying not to sound rude but he couldn’t help it. The fans backed off and put their phones away, but the paparazzi stayed. So the fans made it their job to make sure that the paps wouldn’t stay around for much longer, as they told them to clear off. Harry’s focus then went back onto his girlfriend, and despite all the commotion going on around them, he felt as if it was just the two of them. She couldn’t even speak.

He didn’t know what was happening, but could only assume she needed help.

“Y/NN, copy what I’m doing - count ten as you breathe in, and hold it for a few seconds before breathing out and doing the same thing over and over. It should help you regulate your breathing, ok?”

Harry started to show her, but her head fell down onto his chest as she grips his black jacket.

She needed to do this on her own.

As she tries to regulate her breathing, as that was the best place to start, a fan hands Harry a bottle of water that someone from inside the restaurant had given to her, having seen all of this happening. “I can’t d-do this,” she chokes, trying to breath like normal but it wasn’t working. She’d just end up choking on her own breath again, as the feeling of not being able to breath settles back in.

“You can, babe. You can.” Harry tells her gently. “Look at me.”

Holding her face in his hands again, he lifts her head up so she was looking directly at him. His heart broke. And he knew he wasn’t supposed to do this, but he knew the only way to help her was if all of her undivided attention was on him. “Copy me, I know it’s hard but you need to focus on your breathing and getting it back to normal.” She nods and Harry smiles slightly, before breathing in. Y/N is slightly hesitant as every time she opens her mouth a choking sound comes out, but, she breaths in, and holds it like Harry does. After a few seconds, he breaths out and she does the same as him. Her hands continue to shake as she grasps his jacket a little bit tighter, but, he repeats the action and she does the same again. Her breathing was starting to regulate slightly, but it was still shaking and still a little bit erratic, but better.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N,” he praises her to keep her going.

She lets her eyes close, as she repeats the action over and over. Everything seems to fall into place as her breathing starts to go back to normal. It was still a little fast, but she had more control now and it felt better. She was starting to feel better.

Harry watches her intently as she does one final breath out, before breathing normally. He smiles in happiness as she lets out a deep breath, feeling like she could actually breath again. He caught one tear that fell from her eye, before letting go of her face so she could sit up properly. He takes the water bottle and unscrews the cap before handing it to her. She thanks him with a slightly shaky voice, before taking a sip and feeling the cold water soothe her throat. It was so scary having anxiety attacks, and she hadn’t had one in a while, so the build up of not having them for a while made this one so much more worse.

“Thank you guys for putting your phones away and getting the water,” Harry then thanks his fans as she continues to drink the water.

They all smile at him, muttering ‘it’s fine.’

Once she had drank enough water, Harry helps her up off the ground before walking her over to the car. Immediately, once they were out of view, he wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly.

She wraps his arms around him, bringing one hand up to run through his brown hair. They stay like that for a second, just holding each other as that was scary for the both of them. As much as Harry helped, he did feel kind of helpless. “I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I have really bad anxiety,” she mumbles, resting her chin on his shoulder. He sighs softly, knowing that something along those lines was coming. “I’ve had it since I was a kid, and I have meds for it. Some part of me always thought it would get better and that I’d be better at controlling my anxiety attacks, but I guess I was wrong.” Y/N explains, as Harry let’s go of her so he can look down at her. He frowns softly, moving a strand of her hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me when we first met?” He asks.

She shrugs, “I don’t like telling people. Normally they get weirded out, and then sometimes I feel like a burden because of it. Plus, I didn’t want to worry you, H,” she informs to him.

His face softens. “You aren’t a burden, I promise.”

“Harry,” she sighs, “this is your life. Everywhere you go you have to deal with this, and it was bad this time, and I ended up having an anxiety attack for the first time in months. Whose to say that it won’t happen again? I just don’t want you to feel like that me and you can’t go out anywhere because of what I’m like and what could happen when things don’t go the way that they’re supposed to. Do you know what I mean?” She asks, and he nods his head, looking down at her with sad eyes.

“I’ll put out a tweet and instagram stories telling them to be more respectful. And the same goes for the paparazzi. I just want you to be safe wherever we go. Plus, although I love my fans, they need to learn how to respect the boundaries.” He promises to her.

She smiles at him, “you’re too good to me, Harry.”

He leans down and kisses her on the head. “You deserve it. Right, now let’s go home and go to sleep, because I am fucking shattered.”

#I HAD NO CLUE HOW TO END THIS ONE OMGJSJ #requested #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles

18 notes · View notes