summary: Lars had a medical emergency that he couldn't wait for his primary which meant he had to go to the er. alone. thankfully, you're working that day...
warnings: gender neutral! reader ( at least i think i didn't describe anything too specific lmk if i did pls ), medical mistreatment, Lars' touch aversion triggered, hospital setting, injury mention but nothing graphic, medical setting, reader is described as an hospital worker ( i think i mentioned reader being a nurse, fluff
NOTE: i dont know what this is exactly but i've been deep in my medical era and i thought this was a neat and different kind of little ... thing. anyway i hope you enjoy!
Lars was doing his best not to scream. This doctor wouldn't stop grabbing, pulling, or trying to force Lars in a still position but Lars' entire body was burning. Painfully. And all the man's shouting and threats of sedation were only panicking him more. He should have asked Gus to go with him. Or Karin. Or someone who could help him. He knew he needed to get his hand looked at but as soon as this doctor came in and immediately grabbed his wrist, Lars jerked away. The doctor only grabbed him harder and pulled and it'd only gotten worse. He couldn't explain what was going on in his body. Couldn't tell this man in a way that he'd understand that he was hurting him. Lars couldn't make a sound and a knot had lodged in his throat, his eyes blurry with tears as he tried desperately to get away. IN the distance he heard a curtain pull back and an angry bur firm voice,
"Get away from him."
"He's fine! Just a little anxious so I order something to help. him. relax!" The doctor pulled again and this time you weren't asking nicely. Pulling the doctor away from Lars and nearly onto his ass, your voice came cold and authoritative.
"Get out of this room before I drag you out." With a spat curse and a look you knew you'd be addressing later, the doctor left. You'd be reprimanded almost certainly for telling off a doctor like that but he wasn't helping Lars at all. The poor man was trembling all over, skin red from crying and from a pain response you understood him to have. It was heartbreaking and immediately your attitude softened entirely. Carefully you pulled a stool up to the examination bed but kept a good distance so Lars didn't worry about being grabbed again. His eyes were screwed shut and when they were open he blinked hard and fast, he was having a bad episode and all he had needed was someone with some damn patients. She hated how doctors always acted like they knew best and it didn't matter what the patient needed. Most doctors weren't like that but the one they were stuck with was an asshole about everything.
"I'm sorry about this," you told him quietly not wanting to startle him, his eyes blinked but remained on the floor. "That was probably so scary." Lars still heaved through breathes and you glanced up to the heart rate monitor he was still hooked up to. It was concernedly high, you needed to help him calm down. "How about I sit here with you for a little while? Just in case you need me? And we don't have to talk, we don't have to do anything just breathe. Could you maybe breathe with me? I get nervous when I have to do it alone." Lars glanced quickly at you, barely a moment's glance but he recognized you. You lived on their street, on the corner. He'd seen you jogging sometimes, or in your yard, you'd always been kind. Always said hi and always pretended you didn't see him when he openly and very obviously ran to hide from you. So he nodded, a little jerk of his head before you thanked him so softly in came on a breath and hit him carefully. Lightly. You took a deep breath and Lars struggled through another, you held it a moment, Lars did his best, then you guided him through a slow exhale. And you repeated this once or twice more before praising him, "Great job. You're doing so good." He blushed but it wasn't as dark or nearly as uncomfortable.
"Your name's Lars right? I live on your street, I've seen you chopping wood a few times. I don't have a wood burning stove, bet it's really nice." Lars began slowly relaxing, leaning more into the bed instead of half out of it. His watery eyes looked over to you a little longer smiling just a hair as he nodded.
"It's nice, yeah. And-um, y-yeah I'm Lars. I-I've seen you running sometimes." He looked away then almost embarrassed at having admit that. You just smiled. As he calmed more, the blood came throbbing painfully in his hand and he gripped it instinctively. You noticed the movement and the gauze that was much redder than it should have been. What did that doctor do to him?
"Is this why you're here, Lars? Did you hurt your hand." He looked at it, nodding bashfully before looking at you. When you weren't looking at him he took a little longer to look away.
You were pretty, he'd always thought so. It was why he always tried to hide when you'd speak to him or see him. Lars wasn't the best at talking to new people and you'd only moved in a few months ago. He knew you worked here, though. He'd seen you come home really early when he was getting ready to go to church or work outside and he'd seen you leave fairly late. Always in scrubs. Usually bright colors. Today you wore a bright green with Snoopy and Woodstock on them. He liked them.
You said his name and he quickly dropped his eyes, "Can I take this gauze off? I'll have to clean it and move it a bit. If I put on two gloves and maybe let you keep your hand on a paper towel, do you think you'll be okay? Do you think it'd be enough layers I won't hurt you?" Everyone in town had "warned" you about Lars and his peculiar ways but it was always out of kindness and care. They all loved Lars deeply and only wanted you to understand him a little bit so you wouldn't be offended and the like. You weren't. You thought he was sweet just— anxious. A lot. You watched him think it over, gauging the pain he was already in and deciding how he wanted to proceed. It was important he made that choice. And understood he didn't have to put up with being mistreated or his needs ignored. Finally, after a few moments and deep breaths, he nodded.
"The— The gloves will help." You nodded with a quiet agreement before rolling back a bit and putting on a few pairs of gloves. It would make moving a little harder but you knew he needed this and he needed his hand looked at. Lars watched you carefully almost anticipating you'd try and trick him. To test if touch really hurt him if he wasn't looking, but you kept your word. He counted three layers of gloves. Seeing how tight that made him filled him with a sickly churning guilt but you didn't mention it. It didn't outwardly affect you at all, and honestly? It really didn't. If it helped Lars feel safe then it was what you'd do. Not just because it was your job but because Lars was kind, he was gentle, and he deserved the patience he gave others. You cared about him. You cared about all your patients but Lars had held a special place in your heart since you first met him moving in. He hadn't spoken or looked at you all that much but when he saw you struggling with the heavier boxes and furniture, he wordlessly stepped in to help. Before he knew you. Before you asked or even noticed him. Because that's who Lars was. Awkward and shy, maybe perpetually anxious, but above all that he was caring. He wanted to help sometimes even if he might not know how. So yeah, if more gloves helped him trust you, helped him feel brave again, then it wasn't an inconvenience at all.
You still set his hand on a cloth before carefully removing the gauze, hissing in sympathy. It was a pretty nasty cut but not deep enough to damage tendons or nerves. Maybe just a stitch or two. Lars' body tightened up looking at it. It looked worse now. Was it because he got scared? Did he make it worse? "Good news, Lars," you smiled up at him making him blush, "I think we'll just need two teeny-weeny stitches. Nothing really serious." You pinched your fingers and heightened your voice which may have looked childish or silly but it helped him. He smiled a little before his eyes fell away again. "I'm going to flush it out, shouldn't burn it's just some really clean water." He liked that you were telling him what you were doing before you did it. Even something as little as that meant a lot to him. And your touch was very gentle, light, like you were making a conscious effort not to grab or force him with too much pressure. You weren't looking at him again and he watched you work, followed the slope of your nose and the way it crinkled when you focused on something little. He admired the way your hair lay and the way your skin reacted to the different light, shimmering with what he assumed was sweat but it still somehow looked beautiful. He watched your tongue poke from the corner of your mouth, the pinch between your eyebrows while you worked. Yes. You were very pretty and he couldn't help the little smile growing a little wider when you sat up meeting his eye. You had been so attentive and patient with him, he kept his eyes on you the entire time you spoke,
"All done! You did awesome, Lars. Just keep this wrapped and dry, I'll send ya home with some stuff to keep it all clean and then you just come back in a few weeks and get em removed!" Lars nodded looking at his wrapped hand before rushing to speak seeing you stand,
"Will you be here?" You stopped by the curtain tilting your head a bit. "W-When I have to- to get out?" He was flustered again. All that confidence evaporated the moment you looked at him and smiled.
"I'll try to be, if not you can come to my place? I have everything there, too. How's that sound?" Lars nodded gratefully, a wider smile as you waved. "I'll send ya some release papers then you can call someone to pick ya up?" He nodded again, voice small but much steadier than when you walked in and so heavy with sincerity something in your chest ached.
