A fic where Regean takes care of Brett after he gets shot in the arm
Note: I’m open to requests. Just send an ask or reblog my request post
When Brett saw that crazy new reporter shooting a bullet at his brother, he didn’t think twice into tackling Jadd and getting shot himself. His brother ment a lot more to his family. He barely even felt the bullet hitting his shoulder until they slammed into the ground.
He held back a groan as the pain began to settle in. His hand gripped the wound so more blood didn't spill out as he got up. His dad approached him. Thinking he would scold or yell at him, Brett was surprised when Jadd was demoted and he was now son number one.
“Attaboy” Those words were all he wanted to hear along with the messing with hair. Tears of happiness come into his eyes. It almost made getting shot worth it.
Until they get into the helicopter and his arm feels like hell was burning it. Reagan was giving him glares as she looked at it. His suit was off and his white long sleeve was pulled up. The blood was going to stain it forever
“Why did you do it Brett? ” Regan asked. Although her tone was harsh, Brett knew it was her way of showing that she was concerned. A cloth is pressed into the wound and he hisses.
“They’re my family Reagan.. There’s a part of me that cares about them. You know me.. I want their approval so badly.” He responded.
“I guess.. It’s just hard to see why. They’ve fucked you over so many time. I wish karma would bite them in the ass” She bend his arm, the cloth came off and grabbed a roll of bandage.
“Well what do you want to happened? Send them to Shadow Prison?”
She laughed, as she wrapped the bandage around his the wound. Some blood still stained it but it stopped heavily bleeding atleast.
“I’m kidding, but I wouldn’t mind one those horses being sacrificed. That’s better right?”
Brett nods. The horses spat on him a lot as kid and if he tried to ride them, they would fling him into the wall. If they died or something happened, he wouldn’t mind. He grabbed his suit, and put it on.
“Do you mind putting another bandage on the sleeve?” He pointed to the hole in his suit.
“Why? They’re so purpose if they’re on your cloth?” An eyebrow raised from Reagan.
“I don’t like the blood or the hole showing. I don’t want anyone to see it.”
Reagan sighed and smile “Alright, fine.”
