#marchoi

~~ Writing Fanfiction... ~~

☆-Name: Anne

☾-Age: 20

☆-Sexuality: Bisexual

☾-Pronouns: They/them

☆-Boundaries: I’m heavily pro-Palestine, do not follow this account if you support Israel in any fashion. And you will be blocked without hesitation if you are a minor!

☾-Triggers: Bullying, parent death, heart attacks.

Now playing: Heroin - Badflower

☆”My bones are caving in. She stole my faith again...”☆

I write for the following, and I take requests!

Sevasey

Shawson

Moustead

Rhodestead

Rheese

Reesestead

Marchoi

I write canon-typical violence and medical procedures, as well as smut and fluff. My blog is 18+ for those reasons.

I consider myself to be advanced literate and write 4-10k words per oneshot. I hope to grow my blog more and interact with my followers!

He’s suddenly hyper-aware of his own coat, bright blue but stained red, just like his hands are, and he stops abruptly, letting Maggie walk on without him. The coat’s squeezing his lungs, making it harder for him to breathe, and he’s sure that it’s only a matter of seconds before his lips are the same shade as the fabric that’s killing him. 

     “Crockett?”

Maggie notices him, finally, and he can tell from her reaction that he’s not dying. Still, he can’t understand why his lungs have suddenly stopped working, and why every breath takes more effort than the last.

     “Too tight,” is all he manages to get out as he tugs at the zip. It won’t undo, and the more he tries, the more it seems to resist him.

     “Hey, you’re okay.” She moves closer to him, holding a hand out to offer her help. “Let me.”

He nods, and watches as she unzips the coat in one smooth motion, then pulls it off him just as easily.

     “Lolly, she- she’s little.” He gestures helplessly at the bloodstains, and Maggie nods.

     “I’ll find somewhere for it where she won’t see, okay?”

He thanks her as best he can when half of his mind is still trapped in the back of that van, then watches as she walks away and leaves him standing alone in the middle of the ED. There’s a room ready for him, and he can see Monique standing outside it, looking around for him, but he can’t get himself to move.

It feels like forever before Ethan appears in front of him, though logically he knows it’s been a minute at most, and it’s the safest he’s felt since Jim pulled a gun on him and Nat. Ethan’s eyes are red-rimmed, and just the thought of the man he loves crying because of him makes Crockett’s heart ache.

     “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.” 

     “I’m here now.”

Ethan pulls Crockett towards him, one hand resting between his shoulder blades and the other on the back of his head, gently running his fingers through his hair. Crockett tries to resist - he can’t touch Ethan, not when his hands are still sticky with blood - but being this close to him feels more like home than anything else, and within seconds his head is in the crook of Ethan’s neck, and his hands are hovering just a few inches from his back. It’s as much as he can do, but it’s enough.

Neither of them wants to break the embrace, but eventually Ethan does, urging Crockett to go and get checked out. Monique’s still standing in the doorway of the treatment room, waiting expectantly, but she knows to give Crockett space. 

But he does as Ethan says, and makes his way over to the room. Monique tries to get him settled on the bed and hooked up to the monitors, but he just thanks her and tells her she can go. He’s fine - he knows he’s fine - but his hands are still dirty, and everything about the sensation of the dried blood is getting to him. 

There’s a little sink in the corner of the room, as there is in every treatment room, and he gets to work washing his hands, the same way he does before surgery. He doesn’t have a brush, so by the time he’s done there’s still blood caked under his nails, too difficult to remove without it, but he feels better, even with the way his shoulders don’t feel quite right.

     “Daddy!” A voice interrupts his thoughts, and he realises he’s been watching the water wash down the sink for at least a couple of minutes. It’s clear now, but last he remembers, it was still brown from the blood.

Lolly’s hovering by the open door, and as soon as Crockett sees her, his face breaks into a smile. He’s not sure how much she knows, if anything, so he simply picks her up and carries her over to the bed with him, wincing at the strain on his shoulders.

     “Lost?” She points to Jay, who’s waiting by the nurses’ station, and Crockett just smiles. She still remembers him from a couple of months ago when she went missing while they were Christmas shopping, so as far as she knows, Jay helps find people when they’re lost.

     “Daddy wasn’t lost. I just had to do a special surgery outside the hospital.”

She frowns. “But Jay?”

     “He’s just here because the person having the surgery was a bad guy, and it’s his job to make sure the bad guy doesn’t do any bad things, yeah? But everything’s okay, ma belle.”

This answer seems to satisfy her, so she turns her attention to the embroidery on Crockett’s scrubs, carefully running a finger over each letter. 

     “Doctor Daddy,” she announces with a smile.

     “Is that what that says?”

Her curls bounce up and down as she nods. “Yeah! Doctor Daddy.” 

She’s grinning up at him, the gap where she lost her first tooth somehow even cuter than it was that morning, and Crockett finds himself on the verge of tears. He hasn’t even been her dad for a year, but she was his first thought when he was shoved in the back of the van with a gun in his face. She was the thing that kept him going throughout all of it - he had to make it out for his baby. He wasn’t going to leave her and Sarah again, the way he had all those years ago. He couldn’t do that to them.

     “Hey sweetheart,” he says, his voice catching in his throat. “Why don’t you go and find Papa and get some food, yeah? It’s almost dinner time, and you’re probably gonna get pretty hungry soon if you don’t eat.”

     “Okay! Love you, Daddy.” She kisses his cheek then jumps down off the bed, barely waiting for a response before running off to find Ethan.

It was a chilly day in December when Ethan shuffled into the ED around 7 am, having slept in until 6:30 and skipped his morning workout.  That should have been his first notion that something was going wrong, in addition to the fact that he’d taken a nap the day before and had been having cold shivers for the last few days.  Taking a sip of his coffee, Ethan suppressed another shiver, feeling lightheaded from the fact that he’d skipped dinner the night before to go to bed early and had also skipped breakfast, choosing to just grab a coffee on his way in due to being late.

“Dr. Choi?  I need a second opinion on one of my patients, do you mind?”

Ethan turned to see who had spoken, though the southern accent was an easy giveaway.  He had to squeeze his eyes shut as he did so, the movement making his dizziness worse, noticing the look of concern that flashed across Crockett’s face as he steadied himself against the counter.

“You okay, sugar?  You’re looking a little faint,” Crockett asked with a frown, making a mental note of the slight sheen of sweat on the other man's face as well as how shaky his hands were.

“Y-yeah.  I’m fine, just got a little dizzy, that’s all,” Ethan mumbled as the dizziness lessened, and he was finally able to look up at Crockett.

“Did this come on all of a sudden?  Or have you been feeling off the last few days?”

“The lightheadedness started this morning.  But I guess I’ve been feeling off the last few days.”

“Off?  Off how?” Crockett asked in confusion, tilting his head as Ethan ignored his question, and tried to push past him.

“Can we just check on your patient and stop worrying about me?  I’m fine,” Ethan huffed as he tried to walk past Crockett, his head spinning once more as the taller man caught his arm.

“Hey, talk to me.  You look like you’re about to pass out,” Crockett stated firmly as he looked at the other man, his hand moving slowly from Ethan’s arm to loop around his waist when Ethan’s eyes rolled back and he fell forward into Crockett’s arms.

“Shit.  Can I get some help in here?!”

“Ethan?  What the hell happened in here Dr. Marcel?” April asked with wide eyes as she helped get Ethan up onto a gurney before wheeling him into Exam Room 1.

“I’m not sure, he was just looking a little off and then he passed out,” Crockett explained as he started to hook Ethan up to the monitors, letting out a small sigh of relief when the other man slowly started to open his eyes.

“Hey sugar, don’t make any sudden movements, I don’t want you passing out again,” Crockett explained, nudging Ethan back down when the man tried to sit up, moving to hook the bag of saline up to the IV he’d made in Ethan’s left arm.

“You’re dehydrated and running a fever.  What in hell made you think to come to work was a good idea today?”

Ethan frowned at Crockett’s words and gave a half-hearted shrug as he leaned back against the pillows.

“I dunno, I was feeling like shit last night and this morning, but I didn’t want to bother anyone with it.  I didn’t really expect anyone to care anyways,” Ethan explained as he watched Crockett move around the exam room to gather the supplies for a blood draw.

“That’s clearly the dumbest thing you have ever said.  It’s obvious to me that everyone here cares about each other.  Y’all seem to have such amazing camaraderie that I actually get jealous of how much of an outsider I feel like,” Crockett admitted as he drew the blood for tests before he hooked the IV back up.

“People here do care about you y’know.  I mean...I care about you,” Ethan admitted, though he wasn’t sure if it was the fever that was finally making him admit his feelings for the other man or how comfortable he felt being taken care of at that moment.

Crockett cracked a smirk as he grabbed a cool damp cloth to brush the sweaty hair off of Ethan’s forehead before he sat on the edge of Ethan’s bed.

“I care about you too sugar, which is why I got worried when you passed out.  Which, by the way, you didn’t have to do just to get my attention, you know that right?  Asking me out for dinner would have sufficed,” he teased with a grin before he dropped a soft kiss onto Ethan’s hair before he moved to get up, raising an eyebrow when Ethan’s hand wrapped softly around his wrist to halt him.

“S-stay?  We can talk about this more when I’m not fever drunk,” Ethan mumbled as he pressed his cheek against the pillow with a yawn, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips as Crockett moved to sit back down in the chair next to the gurney.