I'm No Superman

It wasn’t a surprise that Quentin was useless when he was sick. He was always putting other people before himself, always focusing on the health of other’s before his own. It was only typical that he’d come down with something eventually, and Sam had been grateful when his mother had texted her to keep her in the loop on her son’s health. Leave it to Quentin to ‘forget’ to tell her when he was unwell, the stubborn asshole.

“Quentin?” Sam called out, shouldering her way through the door to his apartment as she unlocked it using the spare key she’d had made for emergencies. Sure, this might not be a literal emergency, but it was close enough. “Your mother told me you were sick, I thought I’d stop by.” God, was this overstepping it? Probably. But he was just as stubborn as she was, and she knew deep down that this was the right choice. She’d stopped by the pharmacy on the way over, stocked up on tissues and cold medicine and bought some soup from the grocery store, along with a few more necessities, before letting herself into the apartment. 

Setting the bags in the kitchen, she grabbed the Theraflu and a box of tissues before immediately going to find him, her eyes softening as soon as she did. “Hey, Superman. How’re you feeling?” Sam lowered herself next to him carefully, placing the box of tissues next to him and setting the medicine on the table. She gazed down at him fondly, running her fingers through his hair with one hand as she rubbed his shoulder gently with the other, concern swimming in her eyes.

@nursesykes

Quentin’s eyes fluttered open slightly as he heard his door unlocking and someone coming in without him needing to get up. So that was either a good or bad thing. Good thing because he didn’t have to get up because his head was pounding, but bad thing because he didn’t remember asking anyone to come over. When he heard Sam’s voice he chuckled to himself. He had just replied to her text this morning. It had been some idle chit-chat about a new movie they wanted to go see. He groaned and rolled over into his pillow. His mother had texted Sam? Wasn’t that kind of weird for a 30 year old man to need his mom to text his own girlfriend about his cold? And that’s just it--it was just a COLD. 

He felt the bed sink in as Sam sat next to him and peaked up for a second before trying to cover his head with another pillow. “It’s okay, just let me suffocate myself at the thought that my mom texted you about my cold.” he laughed to himself, only to sputter and end up coughing. The nurse cleared his throat and sat up to look at Sam, and then at what she had brought over using her “emergency only key”. 

“You know, I don’t want you to get whatever I got.” he sighed trying to clear his throat once again so it didn’t sound so horse. “I probably just got something while at the hospital. You know how that is.... But, since you’re here, I guess I could use the company.” he smiled, even though he probably looked awful. I mean, no one looks attractive while they’re sick. 

“So, did my mom say I was a useless 30 year old nurse who can’t get over a simple cold, or did she phrase it more nice for you?”

Of all the people who could have possibly sent her a text, Quentin was probably the very last person Sam expected to get one from. Seeing his name pop up on her phone had caused her heart to freeze in her chest, only for him to quickly ruin any chance she had at saying something sentimental in return by sending a photo of his fucking cat. She had just finished her shift, which meant she was tired and not in the mood to talk to other people, let alone Quentin, but he had dipped so suddenly without any warning, and now that he was actually making an effort to be back in her life she wasn’t going to miss that opportunity. He had hurt her, but she had hurt him, so did that make them even?

Waiting outside, she had to hold herself back from breaking out into a sprint at the sight of his car puling up into the building. “You know, when I said pick me up from work. I didn’t think you were actually going to take my word for it. Since you rarely seem to keep your promises.” She quipped lightly, climbing into the passengers seat of his car and biting back a grin. “But the second you try to pay for my food, I’m punching you in the fucking throat because this is not a date, old man. Got it? Good.” She gave him a tight smile, though her eyes gave away just how much she truly missed him, and the way she leaned towards him, her body gravitating towards him in the small space of the vehicle, was all the proof he might have needed to know that she missed him just as much. 

@nursesykes​

When Quentin hit send he wasn’t sure if he felt relief that he had actually managed to send it or anxiety because now it would be headed straight to her phone. Of course, that was under the assumption Sam hadn’t blocked him or changed her phone number. He panicked and quickly sent the most recent picture on his phone of Snowball. It was some dumb but adorable picture of her playing with some cat toy he had bought her a few days ago. He sighed as he gently set his phone on the coffee table and waited to see if it would light up with a message from her or not. It felt like it was forever until her name popped up. He just stared at the witty text about needing a ride before looking around his apartment panicked. Would they come here? It was absolutely not clean, there were cat toys everywhere because he didn’t want his cat to be bored while he was at work, and worst of all he was still in his scrubs from work. Springing up from the couch, he rushed to his room, changed into something that looked and smelled clean, violently threw his less clean clothes into his closet and ran for the door. 

As he pulled up in his car, he was just full of anxiety and regret that he hadn’t fucking cleaned ANYTHING (including his car) and there Sam was waiting. Maybe she wouldn’t notice the pair of scrubs in his back seat along with wrappers here and there or the random medical supplies he apparently was just too lazy to put somewhere else. But hey, you never know when someone will need help, so that was his half-assed justification. When she climbed into his car, he felt a breath of cold air rush in followed by the familiar smell of her shampoo. “Oh, I don’t keep my promises?” He retorted and rolled his eyes. “Well, I promise you it’s not a date then. I mean, I didn’t clean my apartment or own any food that isn’t similar to a 3rd grader’s lunch so joke’s on you.” Quentin definitely wasn’t selling himself, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sam had actually responded and was here with him as they playfully bantered back and forth. 

“So you’re back at Brielle? That’s a surprise. If I remember right, that place was a shithole after Holmes left and I can’t imagine it got any better after I left. I mean, there were hardly any nurses, let alone a head nurse.” Even though he called it a shithole, he knew there was some weird soft spot he had for the institution. Something that always managed to draw him back. He had left Serenity before but somehow ended back there as a nurse. “Hopefully the kids are doing okay at least, you included.” he braced himself in the very likely chance Sam would hit him. He knew she hated hit, but couldn’t help but tease her. 

 ❝-         what do you mean i’m not allowed to BE HERE??❞ abrielle sneered, brows furrowed and a distasteful expression on her face. she was just outside on a bench doing some homework… it was NICE out.  ❝ seriously, what the fuck is up with this place?? i’m just sitting on a bench- i’m not breaking any rules. none that i was made AWARE OF, at least… ❞

“I literally don’t make the fucking rules. And you’re allowed to sit on the bench if you have a child supervisor with you, and um, yeah I don’t see one, so you are breaking the rules.” Quentin sighed not wanting to get into a petty argument, but also ready if that’s what was in store for him.

she’s just sitting outside smoking and reading a book. she wants peace. when she hears footsteps, and a door opening, she’s quick to put her cigarette out as inconspicuously as she can. her mind races as she prepares to get in trouble, and her she pulls her knees tighter to her chest, her open book still resting upon them. 

As the door slams behind Quentin he lets out an irritated sign running his fingers through his hair. Aside from the god damn rumors about him and Abby, the new staff who had started had been a pain in his ass, telling him to do this and that like he was their little servant or something. His eyes shift over to the girl and he can smell the awful smokey smell, even though she wont look up at him. “I’m somehow always surprised that you patients keep getting this junk in Brielle. But hey, I didn’t see it so it’s not my problem, besides I’m on break so it’s even less my problem.” 

She was going to kill every officer in this joint. She stalked into the cafeteria with murder in her eyes, her dark hair falling out of the ponytail. “Hey fuckhead, why don’t you beat on someone your own size?” She shouted at an officer who had just hit a patient for resisting them, rage boiling her blood as she sized him up. “I really won’t have any problem beating you to a pulp, and I’m sure at least seventy five percent of the people in this room would cheer. So you better let go of him and grow some human decency because–” Her words were cut short as she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. The voice in her ear was both calming and infuriating, but Quentin was one of the few people she knew who were capable of holding her back. Granted, he would probably pay for it later if he kept saying shit like this. She rolled her eyes as he emphasized the fact she was security. “Piss off.” She whispered under her breath, but she didn’t shake herself out of his grip.

Instead she let him guide her into the kitchen, her eyes still burning with hatred. “I had the situation perfectly under control. I didn’t need your help.” That was a lie–if he hadn’t shown up, chances were she’d be looking just as bad as some of the injured patients. She was also pretty sure he was perfectly aware of that. “But yes, I would have murdered that motherfucker and no, they didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” She pulled herself out of his grasp to shut the kitchen door out of hopes they’d have a bit more privacy. “But if you tell me I look like a patient one more time, I will cut your tongue out, chop it up, bake it into a nice cake, and feed it to Abigail Winston.” She smiled tightly, but her eyes were still blazing with a fire that couldn’t be tamed. “It might have been a few hours, since you’re obviously somewhat sober now, but word gets around.” Even though she couldn’t technically get mad at him for hooking up with someone else (after all, SHE had been the one to leave HIM hanging for ten months) that didn’t mean she didn’t care. 

“Of course you had the situation under control.” the nurse replied as he rolled his eyes dramatically. “It didn’t look like you were going to knock his lights out forever or anything like that.” He let her pull away as his hands fell back to his sides as his jaw tensed at Abby’s name. “What, did Demi go around and gossip that I was high or something?” he laughed clenching and unclenching his hands. It had been a few hours since the high had warn off, but that had also left him in a foul mood. His head was pounding and there was a small nagging feeling that he wanted MORE. “And whatever happened between Abigail and I is done.” Truth was he couldn’t even remember what happened, but he had some sinking suspicions. “What do you want me to tell you Sam? I’m not fucking perfect and last time I checked nothing was going on between us anyway.” The angery words seemed to pour from his mouth and he couldn’t stop them, even though he knew he might regret them later. “So? What does it even matter.” 

closed starter for @nursesykes

❝ ──  so i heard you were lookin’ for me, ❞ abigail greets cruelly as she saunters into the women’s bathroom after having watched quentin frantically peered around before slipping inside, folding her arms and leaning against the door. ❝ you know you can’t be in here, quentin, don’t you?? ❞ 

As soon as he heard that toxic voice he felt his muscles tense as he slowly turned around, smirking back at Abigail. “Even though I may not be a woman, I am still a nurse and that means I can go anywhere.” It was meant to sound cool, like he knew what he was doing with his life and job, but as the words left his mouth he regretted that it made him sound more creepy than anything. “Um--Yes anyway, I have been looking for you.” The nurse shook his head angrily. “What the hell happened that night Abigail? I only heard what happened when I walked into Demi’s room and then all that shit with the riot officers and--fucking hell now Sam is ANGRY at him for some shit I don’t even remember and YOUR name came up for some reason.”

 “You’re welcome,” she muttered, eyes still averted, hands playing with the hem of her sweater. At his next question, she shook her head. Her hands went to her hair and twirled a chestnut strand. “Sorry.”

“No that’s okay, don’t be sorry.” he replied sighing a bit. It seemed like most of the patients here hadn’t been around anyone else. “Okay well, you’ll be staying here for awhile until the officers have secured the building and all the the patients. Is there anything you absolutely need from your room? Or any medications I should know about? We don’t have access to your files at the moment.” 

‘‘ No, no no. ’’ Cecily says, small finger-wagging at the other. ‘‘ I can’t be the BOSS, because Nate’s the boss. There can’t be TWO bosses. ’’ she’s saying this like it’s obvious. ‘‘ Seven’s my CAT, you don’t know seven? ’’ No Cecily, no one knows seven, because he doesn’t fucking exist.

Quentin nodded and laughed at the comment of Nate being the boss. “Well, that’s very true. Maybe you could be Nate’s vice president then?” at the mention of the cat though, the nurse frowned, almost certain this “cat” wasn’t real, but he was bored and willing to take the bait anyway. “No I um, don’t believe I’ve ever met Seven. Was he back in your room or something?” 

Who the fuck was this guy thinking he needed to stand up for Nate? It was flattering - yes - and while Quentin was a part of Nate’s staff, probably admired, but the teen didn’t need it. He was fine. Being manhandled was becoming commonplace since the break in and during it all, the brunette was offended that the institute was being fucked over by a bunch of men in uniform. Just because they had fancy suits, didn’t mean they could bust in and take the place for themselves. Scoffing, Nathaniel pulled away from Quentin and rolled his eyes, “I don’t need your help. I’m fine. Besides, I’m not scared and being cornered doesn’t bother me. I’m great at talking my way out of shit.” Well, that was half true - mostly true. Nate enjoyed amping his ego at any given chance, despite his attempts to seem as levelheaded as possible. Superiority sometimes weighed heavy on those that didn’t know how to handle the publicity. But Nate was different, he wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. “There’s nothing to look at anyway, it’s not like I’m bleeding.” Bruising - perhaps in the coming days, but he hardly needed to make for a show - especially with a man that thought he could use some sort of pesky assistance. He wasn’t an invalid - for fuck’s sake. 

Quentin sighed and nodded. “I know you’re perfectly able to stand up for yourself and you don’t need my help, but it’s still here if you do want it.” His eyes glanced at Nate’s arm where the officer had previously had a tight grip and nodded. He wan’t bleeding, so that was good, but Quentin was still sure it wasn’t exactly pleasant either. “Well, at least you’re in the cafeteria now. I’m sure you heard all the chatter about everyone needing to be here? So, before the riot officers got here, were you with any other patients who aren’t here now? There are still some missing, no doubt avoiding us and camping out somewhere.” 

Out of EVERYBODY it could have been, it was Quentin and Demi couldn’t have been more relieved… He was like that cool uncle who let you get off with shit all the time and wouldn’t tell your mom. He was somebody that Demi trusted but she couldn’t help but question what had happened the other night. Spinning around, her heart raising up from her stomach and back into her rib cage, the brunette let out a sigh and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Let me tell you now, I am NOT going there… And hey – you’re not allowed to call me Demetria. Not even Aiden got away with that… I don’t know what was up with you, but you were fucked up. Booze and cocaine, maybe? You fucking came and woke me up – I tried to get you to sleep in Abigail’s bed but you weren’t having any of it and just kept on telling me how beautiful I was and like, squishing my cheeks… It was weird, like REALLY fucking weird. How far did things go between you and Abby? You couldn’t even get the words out.” Her palms were extended, as if she was DEMANDING answers to the questions that he was asking… What was he even thinking? Demetria was unsure as to what had happened between Quentin and Abigail, but he didn’t know how manipulating Abby truly was… Oh, how Demi wished she could tell him. But she couldn’t betray Abigail.

Quentin cringed as Demi went into detail with what had happened. It was worse than he had imagined and the fact that it had happened with Demi, someone notorious for being the Gossip Queen of Brielle, he didn’t exactly feel assured that this wouldn’t somehow get leaked. “I squished your cheeks and called you... Beautiful?” he groaned and ran his fingers through his hair trying to come up with someway to dig himself out of this pit of despair. “Okay--well... I apologize for whatever I did back there and uh I’ll try to never do it again?” he also hated and was oddly suspicious as to how CORRECT her guess was of what he had been on. Although he knew it was pointless to deny it. “And hey, don’t get all judgey and accusey about what happened between Abby and I. I mean, shit if I couldn’t remember what happened between you and I, you think I remember what happened with Abby?” he sighed shaking his head. “I know you know where Abigail is. Tell me or else.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t wise to threaten Demi, but he actually liked his job at Brielle and he wasn’t about to get fired for a shitty mistake and whatever happened with Abby.

Sierra had been scared. The officers had seemingly come from nowhere and she wondered if they were all in danger or if she was in trouble. They hadn’t been very understanding either of the fact she couldn’t speak so that had only made the officer angrier. She was currently hiding behind Quentin as he spoke the officers, she trusted that at least he wouldn’t hurt her.  Sierra shrugged her shoulders when he turned to her, turning her face and tucking some hair behind her ear so he could see the large red bruise.

He sighed looking at the bruise and threw another nasty glare back at the officer. “Sorry about that. It’s... Well it’s a shit show as you can see.” the nurse laughed looking around and frowning. “Do you have anything to write on or do you need something?” he was sure all the patients had been rushed out of wherever they were rather quickly and he couldn’t imagine the officers letting them stop to grab much.