Hospitalized (Day 1) Javier x Reader
a/n: i came up w this exactly a year ago today and never wrote it, so we’re starting to write it today :D
hospital au
31 days of being in a hospital stuck in the same room, they start off as strangers but fall in love by the end: end with them dancing to everybody loves somebody
DAY 1
8AM
Bright lights. White sheets. Beeping. Surgical masks. Hospitals were your worst enemy. The cold anti-bacterial feel of them, the fear of what you’re being diagnosed with, having to share a room with a stranger, and questioning whether anyone will visit you. It’s a nightmare. But some drunk driver managed to land you here, and you’re stuck in this room for a whole month. Having to put away all your projects to stay here and recover was bad enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the news that Dr. Slate was about to give you.
“Ms. L/N?” Her voice rings out, curls upon her hair bouncing into the room. Although you undeniably hated hospitals, she made it a bit more bearable, with her kind words and bringing me normal people food. You groan and sit up when she gets to your bed, if you can even call it that. Assuming that this was another blood test, you reach out your hand, turning away and praying for the best. “No need miss, this isn’t a medical check up.”
“What is this then?” You quirk an eyebrow. Left with little friends and family which lives abroad, you know it won’t be about visitors, so it’s either going to be a miracle and you’re being let out early, or a nightmare and something terrible’s happened.
“Today, we had a patient which fell off a horse at a ranch and landed in a ravine. His wounds are severe and he’ll be having similar treatments to you, so the rest of the doctors and I have made the choice to room him with you.” The sympathetic look on her face is all that stops you from screaming. Really? Some farmer guy that fell off a horse? All you’re thinking of is the high possibility of him being some old republican man, and you throw your hair into your hands in despair.
“Do you have to? Are there no other rooms?” You bargain with Dr. Slate, begging for her mind to change.
“There are, however-“
“Then why not put him there?” You whine, turning your head into your pillow.
“The board determined that it will be simpler to have you in one room and share treatments than have to do everything twice and move equipment around.
“Fine, fine, now leave me to wallow in pity,” You joke, Dr. Slate messing up your hair as she leaves. Truly, you are grateful for her. She makes you feel at least a bit normal in this dreaded building.
10AM
After Dr. Slate brought you the news, one of your coworkers visited you, and brought a bouquet of daffodils: for friendship, she said. You have no idea whether that’s right, but you really couldn’t be bothered to search it, not in your state of depression. Following that, you passed out and woke up a few hours later, praying that your news was all just a dream.
Picking up the nearest book to you on the bookshelf, you hope for a distraction.
“Great, communist fucking pigs” You grumble at the sight of ‘Animal Farm’ by George Orwell.
“Animal farm?” An unknown voice echoes from the other bed in the room, making you jump.
“Jesus Christ-“ you turn around, now aware that your new roommate is here already. Just from the fact that he guessed what book it was from your comment, you could tell that this was going to be insufferable.
“I heard you weren’t too happy when you found out about rooming with me?” You still hadn’t looked at him, but from his voice, you could tell he wouldn’t be old. Finally finding the courage too look up, you prop yourself up on your elbows, and look him in the eyes. Holy shit. His eyes are striking, like a falcons, and his hair in a small bun. His skin is a glowing tan, and his hands are holding a book, but you can’t make out the title. You won’t let this distract you. You’ve decided you hate him, and you’re too stubborn to take it back now. Besides, just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he’s a good person.
“Yeah, I’m not very social in hospitals.” You bluntly reply, trying to imply you aren’t interested in conversation.
“Ah, shame for you, I’m a very talkative person, basically everywhere” You can’t place it, but his accent is beautiful. You hum in reply, returning to your book.
Five minutes. Five minutes of peace before the mysterious man spoke again.
“So how did you end up here hermosa?” So he speaks Spanish, and he’s a bit too curious.
“Some drunken fuck rammed into the back of my car on the highway, going 40 over the limit.” You roll your eyes at the bringing up of the event, still mad that you’re here because of some idiot.
“Sounds like a thorn in the side,” His comment seems understanding, like he doesn’t really want to be here either.
“A bit more than that, I hate hospitals.” You keep your slightly cynical demeanour and don’t show your appreciation for the kindness. Why should you? You barely know the guy, and when you’re out of here you won’t even remember his name. You don’t even know his name.
“Why so?” More questions. Lovely.
“They make me think of death, just everything about them. It’s too clean, too industrial.” You reason. That’s probably the first genuine answer you’ve given the man this entire time. It felt polite, so you speak again. “How did you get here?”
“Ah, I work on a ranch with my amigos, and when i was bringing a horse back from a hack, I didn’t see this stupid ravine, and ended up here. I wouldn’t even be alive if John hadn’t found me.” He looks down in shame. Guilt overcomes you, you didn’t think there would be any emotion in that question.
“I’m sorry,” You break the tension after taking a deep breath.
“Don’t be, I asked first, and I’m grateful in a way.”
“How so?”
“I don’t have to help with shovelling the stables for the next month,” He grins. His smile is contagious, you can’t help but smile too. “Of course, I can’t ride for that month too, but I’m still grateful.”
“That’s good.” A long silence ensues, the words stuck in our throats. For once, you’re the first to speak, “Not to be rude or anything, but how didn’t you know about that ravine? Like, if you’ve been working there for a while, I’m sure they would’ve warned you, ravines don’t naturally appear overnight.”
“Well, it didn’t appear naturally. Some industry, Cornwall industries I believe, made a deal with our neighbouring ranch, O’Driscoll ranch, to start drilling for oil, and they’re pushing the boundaries a bit too far.” You notice how his teeth grit and jaw clenches at the mention of Cornwall and O’driscoll.
“I’m sorry to hear that” Deciding, not to pry anymore, you leave the topic.
Maybe having a roommate won’t be as terrible as you thought. He seems like a genuine and kind person, but you’re yet to know him.
