#emptyonce

             she hadn’t been told a lot about the patient - just that he was a convict, caught on the run. all she knew about him was that he had a gunshot wound. lexie had no idea if he was violent, or mentally unstable, which resulted in severely shaking hands. not exactly good for her line of work. she smiles nervously at the security guard in the corner of the room before addressing the patient, eyes on the chart in her hands the whole time she speaks to him.      ❛    uh, hello, mr — mr sucre, i’m. i’m doctor grey, i’m going to be — be briefing you on our plans for treatment. if — if that’s alright with you.    ❜

HE WAS REALLY HOT IN IT IVE BEEN CRYING OVER THIS REVELATION FOR HOURS

❝  fuck.  ❞       single word escapes with what he WANTS to be a laugh but comes out as more of a half - sob,  an ugly,  nightmare - spurred noise.  he scrambles to sit up,  hands pulling at the blankets surrounding him as if they’re a body bag,  gaze cast down rather than at his twin.  if his mind were more AWAKE,  john would apologize for waking jack up,  but as it is all that comes out is feeble assurances  ––––       ❝  i’m okay  —  i’m alright.  ❞        lies,  certainly,  but it’s not like there’s anything else he can say  —  he sure as HELL doesn’t want to talk about the contents of his nightmares.

iM JUST SAYIN,,,, I COULD

rewatch it hoe

thats not saying much

              ❝ i wil-l-ll l-lov-ve t-to s-s-see th--that d-day. ❞ don’t worry --- she means it.