𝗵𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱?

          AN OUTBREAK WASN’T WHAT SHE MEANT when she had asked for more excitement, and in this new world something that could be simple might not be. none of the usual medications were working and at this point it was triage just to keep people breathing. her training kicked in like a sixth sense, like second nature despite her not finishing med school, she’d been lucky to skip far enough ahead to be prepared. but nothing could really prepare them for this, for watching each other die in pain and fear with no way to help them. she was covered head to toe in protective gear, she had two layers of gloves and two masks but she was pumped full of adrenaline and fully vaccinated. she grabbed a bucket for the person in bed three who had started to on that step of this virus and hurried to get the next person who had walked in into a bed. “what are your symptoms right now, when did they start?” she beckoned for someone to come help her, write down the answers to her questions while she started an IV. “you need to help or get out.” she said sternly, managing both impromptu nurse and patient. 

normally, she comes across as chill. tiny bit bitter, but rather chill. when under pressure, it’s everything but. as much as she tries to stay cool, keep her head in the game, her firm tone suggests nothing but sheer anger. she’s been running around the hospital, non-stop, for quite the while now. dressed in a full bodysuit, wearing about three pairs of gloves and a fucking hairnet, sweating her ass off, witnessing tragedy wherever she looked. she practically jumps from one bed to another, hands full of medical supplies, a lot of which she has never used before. it’s a mess. everything is a mess, and if they’re unlucky, they might all be dead before you even know. how does that make one feel? 

she comes up behind the blonde, a notebook in her hands. frantically, she begins scribbling down whatever their newest patient’s mumbling. the girl’s words make her squint, and she snaps back, almost instantly. “shut up, i’m doing my fucking best.” and that’s the truth. attention turns back to the patient. “shivers, you said you’ve been having those, eh?” just double-checking. she writes it down, looks at the blonde, then back at the guy before them. eventually, her focus returns to the piece of paper. 

“wait, please don’t pick at the —” he elicits a sharp exhale as he moves from one patient to another. “no — i’m not allowed to give you any more pain killers so if you could just —” he’s slowly losing his train of thought with all of the noise. patient complaint here, patient vomiting over there and practically everybody else panicking and screeching through the other side of the emergency room doors. “could you maybe — could hold on a minute?” he gives his current patient a look of reassurance before turning and striding toward the emergency room doors. he takes a deep breath before removing one of the bands of his mask from one ear and practically bursts through the double doors. “will you all PLEASE calm the FUCK down,” his voice booms. it’s loud enough that it almost echoes, despite the amount of people in the waiting area. “i know you’re worried about your friends or your family, but it’s really, really hard for us to try and help them when you’re all SCREAMING at the top of your FUCKING lungs — thank you.”

"no!” tone assertive, but she manages to sound like she’s talking to a stubborn pre-schooler. “don’t— fucking touch me.” she swats the patient’s hand away with a broomstick, one she has been sort of holding onto since the beginning of the night. it has worked wonders. “take this glass. easy.” her other hand holds out a mug of water. she’s trying to be caring, do the job, but at the same time make sure that no one infected, not a single person manages to touch her — even slightly. she doesn’t need that shit. not right now. “i want you to drink this, and i’ll check up on you in a minute.” she announces, before making her way over to the next bed. “okay, charles, how are you doing? did you get your pain—“ the sudden retching from across the room throws her off track. she pauses, looks towards the source. the sight is terrifying, leaves her in a certain state of shock, but eventually, she comes to. “fuck.” without further ado, babs sprints out of the room, makes her way to the other side of the corridor, searching for a bowl, a container of some sort, only to learn there are no more such things available. “don’t piss on my fucking tits.” she swears under her breath before making her way back. that’s when she witnesses his outburst. and honestly? she can agree with every single word. that, however, doesn’t stop her from approaching him, in clear stress, but trying to keep her cool. “lloyd. patient number ten is puking fucking blood right now.” she informs, a half-whisper. “we’re out of bowls, pots — there’s blood all over the fucking bed. i-” a short pause. hesitation. yet, she’s trying to make it quick. there’s no time for small talks. “i think she’s dying.” 

                           “ OH ARE WE STILL PRETENDING WE CARE? ”  the gnawing at his flesh does not stop, nor does the burning. DEATH DOES NOT BECOME HIM, he concludes, features stark gaunt-like in the mirror before him, - calloused hands sporting freshly cut knuckles. fumbling with his tie, he resorts to tearing it from his shirt. oh how he wants to be at home, but he cannot help but revel in other people’s misery. “ do you think they’ll kill him? jamie? eye for an eye and all. ”

"i guess.” babs offers a simple shrug from where she’s sat, her legs awkwardly spread, a position that in no way matches the ridiculously long dress. a cigarette rests between her lips. “pretending is all we have right now, buddy.” she tells him. it’s blunt, unenthusiastic, but she stands by it. “how are you gonna care about anything in the world if..” a pause. she waves the cigarette around. “there is no world. bang!” an odd conclusion, but it is what it is. she watches him, expression now bored. then, a slight raise of the brows. “fuck, maybe. but, then what? do we get to kill them? fuck, that’s brilliant. and then someone kills us! shit, and then they get killed!  and so it goes, on and on.” 

* STARTER / OPEN.

      AS MEMBER OF CITY COUNCIL, bella was one of few people who participated with planning and hosting the wake for benjamin. although she did not know him from before, there is sadness that lurks within, silence befalling as she tries to register what could have happened. slowly accepting that they are all in trouble in the newfound community. nonetheless, she feigns a calm exterior, wanting to act as support for those who entered the building to honor the memory of benjamin. a black dress in which stops inches above her knees, a blazer worn to appear more sophisticated for such an event. hair straightened, bella adorns a polished, elegant style as she greets those who enter through the open doors. a gentle smile, red lipstick coloring the thin lips. “thank you for joining us today,” she begins, her hands held before her, voice mild and steady. “did you know benjamin in any way?” she starts a conversation with the person before her—not only to act professional with her assigned role, but to also be friendly, listening to anyone who may want to talk.

fuck. it might be rude to say, but she really doesn’t wanna be there right now. dressed in a black, long, quite vintage, almost gown-like thing she borrowed from the thrift shop, she enters the building, hands shoved into the pockets of her slightly oversized jacket. what a mess. instantly, she sees all these faces, some in tears, some just devastated. she doesn’t belong here. she hardly knew that guy. eyes narrow and babs takes a quick look around the room before gaze returns to one of the walls. when spoken to, she’s not quite sure how to respond. brows raise, then furrow. “what? fuck, no?” she manages, a blunt response to a girl who was probably just doing her job. “does that mean i can’t come in?” 

“so then the bitch texted me sayin ‘how you acting so trashy, ugly ass hoe why don’t you go and get your own man ‘stead of acting like a first class hoe’ “ she laughs, showing the text as she got deeper into explaining the story. “ so i’m like, puta why you all up in my face you can keep your crusty ass man, he ain’t even know how to eat a sister out. “ scrolling down, she screams before he next one. “ t-then she goes ‘you and me parking lot 5 min’ and, ahem, i go – if you so desperate to get your ass handed to you over a piece of garbage see you in 5 ” she closes her phone, taking another shot. “ so i literally come out and this mad girl jump on me straight away, yeah? i pull her fake ass hair off and start slappin’ before fucking up her front teeth and lemme tell you alright, that shit hurt. but yeah, that’s the story about my knuckle scars and one girl’s loss of dignity.”

truth be told, she’s getting a teeny bit lost. and it’s not like she’s not listening, that’s absolutely not the case. it’s just.. hard to pay attention to every detail while rolling a fucking triple cross blunt for the party people. a sudden scream, shriek, breaks whatever concentration she had left for anything. eyes widen, and for a second she looks almost furious. bothered, and not amused, in the slightest. however, that changes when she zones back into the girl’s story. babs hears her out, manages to catch the finale, kinda just watching the other for a few seconds after she finishes talking. “so, what you’re saying is that you fucked the chick’s guy-friend, just because–– who gives a shit? and then you returned, and kicked her ass?” a simple question. “wow, homewrecking has never been so much fun!” a sudden conclusion, though doesn’t sound too sincere. under all that, one could tell she’s not being the most serious. 

*gamer guy voice* what is good, guys! im alex, im twenty and today we’re gonna chug thirteen red bulls while playing overwatch with one hand !! also, this is babs and she’s ssstupid. lmao. if u like this post and subscribe, u can win a new merch and also i will come to u for plots !! u can also always im me or just say my name three times and i’ll b there x