#alwaysxinxtrouble

[goodn1ghtnurse-a]

continued from x

It's been a long day. Allison had agreed to cover a day shift, and it had been a struggle to be so off from her usual schedule. The day shift crew was much more hectic, there were more people waiting to be seen, more patients coming in and out, some even in body bags. Nothing she isn't used to, but it just felt so much more draining. She was looking forward to just crashing on her couch with Wayne, a pretty glass of something red and a crappy movie, maybe even a call to Andrew if he wasn't busy.

Those comforts in her future give her enough energy to walk up the stairs to her floor. She can almost taste the cheap wine, digging her keys out of her purse, when she spots the figure by her door. Her heart stalls for a moment, wide eyes taking in the sight of him, and then she's rushing forward.

"Holy shit, Andrew!" Gentle hands skim over his skin, extra careful of the obvious wounds. "Can you stand? Why didn't you call me?"

@alwaysxinxtrouble

[hesjustcarter]

@alwaysxinxtrouble

There were very few things Carter desired more than a nice, warm bed in between shifts, so once he entered his apartment, unwound the scarf from his neck, and then passed through his kitchen to get to the bedroom, he almost missed the feminine figure sitting there at his table.

Almost.

Doing a double-take, he flicked on the light and lifted his bag as a makeshift weapon, only to hurl it towards the stranger with an unbecoming yelp. The bag sailed past the blonde’s shoulder and careened into the sink, causing the dishes to rattle while he frantically searched for…well…something other than his stethoscope to defend himself.

Though the longer the awkward silence swelled, and the more his rushing pulse began to calm, it soon occurred to Carter that this woman wasn’t there to commit any harm at all – no, she appeared to be injured.

“Uhh, you do know this isn’t a hospital, right? I think you might be a little lost," he quipped, his mouth dry. Wishing he hadn’t hurled his bag so far away, he approached the woman with caution, holding his hands aloft as if she were a wild animal. He’d often heard stories of racoons and other vermin seeking refuge through open windows, but this was far more than just some feral animal. “What’s your name? Do you have anyone I can call?”

The local psych ward, knowing his luck…

Assessing her condition, he sucked his breath once he noted the blood seeping through her pantleg. Nutjob or no, he couldn't very well have this woman dying in his kitchen -- not when his landlord was going to be stopping by for an assessment in the morning.

"I, uh...I don't have the proper supplies to take care of you here, so I'm going to have to move you," he cautioned. "Can you stand for me?" And preferably without any arterial spray, but he supposed his filthy floors had seen worse.

[murkyhazed]

@alwaysxinxtrouble setting the scene for that office sin

               olivia   has   been   thinking   about   this,   about   him,   since   court   this   morning.      sitting   in   the   back,   watching   as   he   poked   holes   in   the   perps   story   until   he   utterly   destroyed   him   on   the   stand.      watching   barba   work,   that   confidence   bordering   on   egotistical,   he   always   got   the   job   done   and   today   it   was   really   doing   it   for   her.      but   work   always   gets   in   the   way,   doesn’t   it?      when   the   verdict   is   handed   out,   olivia   needs   to   tend   to   the   survivors,   because   seeing   the   man   who   took   everything   from   you   is   an   emotionally   draining   experience.      and   rafa,   he’s   got   paperwork   to   deal   with.      they   don’t   even   get   to   speak   when   it’s   over,   just   a   nod   shared   between   the   two   as   she   offers   her   shoulder   to   the   woman   and   he   strides   out   of   the   courtroom.

               her   work   is   done   now   though.      the   light   in   her   office   flicked   off   as   she   wishes   her   team   goodnight.      she   heads   home,   but   she   can’t   stop   thinking   about   him.      with   work   over   and   nothing   to   distract   her,   her   body   is   absolutely   thrumming   with   need.      when   she   arrives   home,   she   apologizes   to   lucy,   explaining   she   has   somewhere   urgent   to   be   and   needs   her   to   stay   a   few   extra   hours.      she   checks   in   on   noah,   her   three   year   old   soundly   asleep   in   his   crib.      she   kisses   the   top   of   his   head   before   she   quickly   changes,   wrapping   the   long   tan   trench   coat   around   her   body   and   tying   it   tight.      a   little   surprise   for   him   that   she   knows   he   won’t   be   expecting.

               his   building   is   mostly   empty,   most   of   the   lights   off   save   for   his   office.      he’s   still   here,   and   it   makes   her   heart   pick   up   speed.      she   gives   the   softest   knock   before   opening   the   door,   stepping   inside   and   closing   it   behind   her.      there   he   is,   sitting   at   his   desk   with   the   little   desk   lamp   on,   still   in   work   mode.      not   for   much   longer   if   she   has   anything   to   do   with   it.      she   discreetly   turns   the   lock   on   his   door,   and   then   offers   him   an   innocent   smile   as   she   steps   further   into   the   office.      ❝   isn’t   it   usually   you   coming   to   my   office   to   tell   me   to   take   a   break?   ❞      she   teases,   standing   in   the   center   of   the   room.      little   does   he   know   her   purpose   for   being   here,   or   the   fact   that   beneath   this   coat   is   nothing   but   sheer   black   lace.

[scribedhorror]

@alwaysxinxtrouble || plotted

When he'd been called down to the emergency department for a consultation on a disoriented man, Bill could not have predicted where this day would bring him. There hadn't been any major damage on the CT and although the neuro exam revealed a concussion, the symptoms had indicated something else entirely was going on in order for the patient — Andrew Cody — to have ended up in their care. And when he'd gone back upstairs after hearing that he was being admitted to psych of his own volition, he'd been relieved.

Until the next time he was paged and he was told that one of his family members had taken him home instead. The neurosurgeon wasn't sure what exactly made him look the man up, but something in their conversation had sparked the need to make sure that he was okay.

Why would anyone want to stop their loved one from getting help?

It wasn't like he'd made any plans for after his shift, already tired after a long week of being on-call, and that need had only intensified the longer he thought about the mysterious man. And once Bill found himself in front of the house, he already felt a little bit better. Walking through the gate he was immediately accosted with loud music, louder people and the smell of weed. Everyone he asked about Andrew Cody had been far from helpful, with most not recognizing the name. Until someone — very tall with shoulder length dark hair — told him that Pope was in his bedroom.

Bill made his way into the house, leaving the pool behind and tried every door before he found the one that must belong to Andrew. Pope. The surgeon knocked first, announcing himself and asking permission to enter but received no response. His stomach sank and without letting himself think about it too much, he let himself in.

"Mr. Cody? It's Dr. Denbrough from the hospital. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright," he stated, moving through the room and crouching down once he reached him. He seemed almost as catatonic as when he'd first shown up at the hospital which was more than a little concerning. "Andrew? Or do you prefer Pope?" Bill didn't touch him, but instead rested his hands on the bed next to him. "It's a little loud... We can go somewhere else and talk if you want?" At least he was alive.

[north-of-classic]

@alwaysxinxtrouble liked for a starter

A smile pulled across Grants lips as the apartment door opened to reveal the tired looking man standing on the other side.

"Hey.." He greeted in a soft tone, eyes lingering for a minute as he held up a bag of food with proud almost playful look.

"Figure you might not of properly fed yourself today and since you didn't stop by the restaurant I figured I'd bring the full dining service to you."

[pittbats]

"No no. Sheeeee said ...wait" She rolls over, "She said that Jenna in L&D, said that Monica in ICU said that you were one hot biscuit. But she's looking for like a bakers dozen."

@alwaysxinxtrouble

[gcverncr]

@alwaysxinxtrouble continued from x.

. “Whew! Boy… you look like twice-cooked pork just sittin’ down there. Had to make sure you was livin’.” 

. The dark head of The Governor looms at the pit mouth high above the unfortunate stranger, joined by the shiny blonde pate of his henchman, Gabe. The pit must have been dug as a catchall for biters in the area, judging by the pervasive stench radiating up from below. This poor son of a bitch must have fallen in on accident. Live bait.

. Philip murmurs something to Gabe that the man below can’t hear, and he disappears.

. The Governor's head cocks, like a cat inspecting a mouse. One might have the impression of inky black hair and tanned skin, a slight grimace bracketed by a dark mustache. “How long’ve you been down there, sport?”

. A rope is tossed in from the side, and Gabe reappears. Philip reaches over and gives it a sharp tug to show the man below that the line is secure. “Come on up, now.”

[exussus]

@alwaysxinxtrouble ∣ 🌊

"Dr. Robinivitch, do you have a son in Chicago by any chance?"