#soap cod imagines

"your favorite patient is back."

rolling your eyes, you lightly nudge your fellow nurse as she passes you a clipboard. an all too familiar medical file glares up at you, the photo taped in the corner seeming to smirk up at you from the page.

sergeant john mactavish. age 28. blood type o-positive.

you don't even bother looking it over anymore. it's in your hands far too often for the information not to be seared into your brain. (something tells you that's part of his plan.) in fact, this is the third time this week that johnny has ended up in medical, and you have a feeling that today's reason is going to be even more nonsensical than the last.

johnny is laying back leisurely on the exam table when you arrive. he pushes himself up quickly as you step through the doorway, his ever charming smile on full display. "evening doc." despite not being one, you stopped correcting him on that long time ago.

"sergeant."

his grin grows impossibly wider. "one day you'll drop the formalities, i just know it." you have to face away from him as you set down the clipboard on the counter, fighting the familiar upward tug of the corners of your lips. it's hard not to smile when you're talking to johnny. he’s got one of those impossibly likeable personalities, bright and endearing despite him constantly babbling off things that should’ve earned him a one way ticket to human resources, one with your signature boldly stamped on it.

“alright.” turning to face him, you let out a sigh and lean back against the counter top with your arms crossed over your chest. “let’s hear it. what’s today’s inconceivable tragedy that somehow left no mark on you?”

“well i was out on the mat this morning - ” johnny starts, not missing a beat. these little visits go the same way every time - you step into the room, johnny turns on the charm, winds you a pitiful story about him getting injured, and revels in the next 15 to 20 minutes of getting a once over from you. and once you’re finished, you kick him out of the room with sigh and a reminder that he’s an ass. it’s played out the same since the first time he’d discovered you hidden away in the medical wing, on a day when he’d actually needed attention.

it’s not the worst part of your day, but you’d never tell him that.

johnny tells you his woes, sighing dramatically as he gestures to his knee. blames it on simon, that he landed on it wrong while taking him down during their earlier sparring session. “dunno if he knows exactly how big of fucker he is.” that elicits a snort of laughter from you, because while johnny’s story has yet to be proven true, that statement definitely is. you’ve seen the proof firsthand.

“ - so i thought you could take a look at it.” he smiles at you, the picture of innocence. you meet that expression with one of suspicion, eyes narrowed in his direction. it’s quiet for a moment as you both hold your ground, a stalemate, until as always you break. “fine,” you say with a sigh, pushing off the counter to move towards him. for someone who’s so ‘injured’, johnny sure does smile a lot. “and before you ask, no, you can keep your pants on for this.”

“are you sure? you’d get a much closer look - ”

“don’t push it,” you snap. your tone is sharp, but not as much as it should be. a blade that’s been dulled by repetitive strikes, the edge smoothing steadily over time. a sword trying to slice stone. johnny leans back on his hands as you approach, stopping in front of his right knee. it’s currently bent slightly, his foot resting on the bottom step of the exam table. “extend your leg for me.”

johnny has put on some dramatic performances for you before, but the sharp hiss he lets out as he flexes his knee is unfortunately genuine. your eyebrows shoot up at his pained expression and you move closer, slipping into your clinical mindset now that you know his complaint is real. “okay, you can rest it down. on a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”

johnny shrugs. “four. no, five.”

carefully, you wrap your fingers around the top of his knee, gently squeezing the area. this elicits another wince from him. eyebrows raised, you drop your hand. “well, congratulations soap. you actually have an injury this time. let's take a look."

he behaves for the most part as you examine his knee. you're able to roll his pant leg far enough up to look for bruising, but the injury is too recent for any color to have blossomed. johnny only slips in one more comment about taking his pants off before you're finished, tossing a pair of gloves in the trash can behind you. "it's just a slight sprain. not a huge deal - "

"so it's fine."

" - but i want you to stay out of that gym for two weeks, minimum. no sparring." the look you receive is one you'd expect from a kid who just earned himself detention. johnny's shoulders droop, genuine disappointment on his face. a little part of you almost feels for him. "are you sure? maybe a brace would do the job, i could just stay off it for a couple days."

you've been here before, but never with johnny. it's hard to tell someone that they're injured whether they like it or not, doubly so when it's someone who has fitness as part of their daily life. and not only that, but johnny enjoys it. you don't have much cause to go into the gym when you head over pick up supplies from their storage, but you've caught glimpses of him working out before. he's strong. proud. you want to call him cocky, but johnny knows exactly what a finely tuned machine he is and how hard he's worked for it. he's just not afraid of showing it off.

which is why you're...kind of feeling bad.

"two weeks. it's a medical order." there's an odd little ache in your chest when johnny lets out a sigh and scratches the back of his neck. "aye, an order," he mumbles dejectedly. you watch him for a moment from your spot against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. before you know it, you're moving forward, stopping next to him. "listen," you start, a sigh escaping your lips. "i wouldn't say it for no reason. i don't want this to become a bigger problem for you, and it could. just...take it easy for a bit. i think your body needs to heal itself without worrying about some monster truck of a lieutenant body slamming you to the ground again."

johnny chuckles, and it's slightly alarming how quickly you find yourself smiling in return. "besides, you come see me so often that it's about time that i actually get you give you a real piece of medical advice. i do get paid for that, you know."

"not just for being a breath of fresh air? bit unfair, if you ask me." if he was down about his injury, he's tucked that away now. bright and shiny johnny is back on full display. you roll your eyes as you retrieve your clipboard, filling out an injury form for him to give to his captain. as your pen scratches his information across the paper, you glance up at him. he's distracted, gazing around your office and leaning back on his hands. his uninjured leg swings back and forth under the table slightly, as if keeping completely still is just out of his capability. johnny regards your space with genuine interest every time he enters, despite having been in the room countless times. it's almost as if he's taking inventory of all the little details that make this space yours, checking in for any changes or updates. he'd especially been a fan of the glittery "please don't die!" sticker you'd inconspicuously put up on the inside of your cabinet door last month.

it's almost like he's truly interested in you.

dropping your gaze back down to the paperwork before he can catch you, you continue to fill out your recommendations for his rest period. "so. two weeks of light weight bearing, knee brace, no gym," you say, forcing indifference into your tone. "how are you going to spend all that free time?" johnny shrugs, swinging his leg a bit faster. "dunno. kyle's got a few wins over my head in poker, maybe i'll try and win my honor back."

"lost cause."

"you're something, you know that?" the earnestness in his tone is striking. he sounds almost in wonderment of you. it takes everything in you not to look up, and even more not to let yourself smile the way you really want to right now. fighting that losing battle for the second time today, you turn to face the wall, allowing the corner of your mouth to fully lift as you get his papers into order. after a quick staple - and regaining of composure - you turn to present johnny with his forms. "give these two to captain price, he'll know what to do with them. this bottom one is for the front office. it's for your file." you point to the bottom section of the front page. "and those are my recommendations. try to enjoy the break."

johnny lets out a huff, rolling the packet into a tube. "i'll try, i'll try. thanks, doc." as pouty as he is over your orders, you know he means it. this time, you allow him to see the smile that grows on your face. "no problem." with that, you turn on your heel to head towards the door. "oh, by the way, i left a little sticky note on the back page, but that one is not for the front office."

the space between his eyebrows crinkles together in confusion and you have the sudden urge to walk back over rub your thumb across the spot to soothe it. a braver you would, but you're taking your opportunity to make this movie and beat a quick retreat. "what's it for?"

you cast one last look over your shoulder as you pull open the office door. "it's my number. you know, for all that free time you're going to be enjoying." the last glimpse you get of him as the door swings shut behind you is his face, staring after you as if you'd just told him he was holding a golden ticket. your nails dig into the palms of your hands as you speed walk down the hall, heart hammering in your chest.

when your coworkers inevitably ask, you'll say it was to get him to stop interrupting your work time so often. but you'll know. johnny really is your favorite patient.

it's the middle of the night when simon comes to get you. he doesn't apologize for waking you when you crack open the door to your room because he knows you've been having trouble sleeping since johnny was shot. just blurts out that johnny is awake. alive. "he's askin' for you."

before you know it you're speed walking behind simon towards the medbay, cursing his long legs for carrying him so fast. he rounds corner after corner with you on his heels before stopping in front of a door. there's no name on the nametag. you assume he's going to reach for the door handle, but he lets out a deep breath and turns back towards you. "y'should really speak to price before you see him. wait here."

frustration bubbles up in your chest as simon vanishes around the corner. it's been almost a week since johnny was rushed off the helipad by the largest group of medics you'd ever seen for just one person. almost a week of no news, no information on his status, no way of knowing if he was beyond saving or just a step away from recovery. it was truly maddening.

price had been no help, although by the look on his face the many times you had questioned him he didn't know much more than you did. he looked just as tired, just as haunted. he's alive, price had grumbled while staring out his office window, cigar gripped a bit too tightly to be casual. that's all that matters.

it is all that matters, you think to yourself as you bounce on your heels outside johnny's room. its only been three minutes since simon went to fetch price, but as every moment passes your resolve starts to splinter. johnny is right behind that door. asking for you.

you've been desperate to see him. to simply watch him breathe, if anything. since the day you stepped foot on base, he'd bonded to your side like cement - much to your annoyance at first - and had stayed there ever since. within a few months you had to admit that he had officially earned his title as your best friend, again, much to your annoyance. johnny seemed to have a way of worming into people's lives with his charming smiles and thoughtful actions even if they didn't exactly want him to, simon was proof of that. it had been too long without him.

fuck waiting.

you had half expected some kind of code to get in considering the way they'd been keeping his condition under wraps, but the door swings open easily. the room is quiet except for the monotonous beeping of a heart monitor. a single light next to the bed casts a soft glow across the room, illuminating iv poles that almost look as if they're standing guard over their patient - the patient who cracks his eyes open and offers a sleepy yet devastating smile.

"there she is."

a sob threatens to spill out as you stride across the room to the side of the bed, johnny's eyes locked onto you as you move toward him. his smile is one of relief, as if he's the one leaning over your hospital bed to babble about how happy he is you're alive. he looks paler than usual, but you chalk that up to having been stuck in his little fluorescent corner for the past week. there's a bandage on the left side of his head, obscuring the wound that had nearly taken his life. you'd expected him to look different, delicate, perhaps even weak, but the man in front of you looked no worse off than having had a bad case of the common cold. of course johnny would cheat death and still come out looking no worse for wear.

"johnny," you whisper, his name coming out broken and weak. he grins - of course he would, mischief dancing in his eyes even while sitting in a hospital bed - and reaches his hand out to you. there's a slight shake to it as it lingers in the air before your fingers lace with his, pulling johnny's hand to your chest. there's an all too familiar burn behind your eyes, one you don't even notice until johnny tuts, raising his other hand to wipe the hot tears from under your lashes. his touch is calloused yet so familiar.

"stop your cryin' bonnie. m'here." johnny's hand cups the back of your head, pulling you towards his chest. it's all so much, his voice, his touch, the ever comforting smell of johnny on his hospital gown. his arms wrap around you, tugging you up to climb into the bed beside him. he presses your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. well. that's new.

"you're alive."

"what gave it away?" johnny laughs as you lightly punch his side and the sound makes you feel dizzy. there had been a few days where you had doubted you'd ever hear it again. "don't be pulling your punches on me now, love. if i wasn't bulletproof before i sure am now."

"oh, shut up." johnny's arm releases from around your waist and you take the opportunity to sit up, examining his face. the crinkles around his eyes, the faded scar jutting across his chin. the sight of him feels so safe and familiar, and for the first time in almost a week you feel the icy tendrils of fear start to melt from your bones. a warm and calloused hand rests on your arm, his thumb rubbing light circles across your skin. "i don't know how they did what they did," you sniffle, fidgeting with the edge of his blanket, "but i'm so fucking happy you're alive. i didn't know what to do, they wouldn't tell me a thing, and when i saw you on that gurney - "

"hey." johnny's voice is softer than you've ever heard. his hand reaches up to cup your cheek, and you blink back at him in surprise. he touches your face gently, seemingly mapping it out with his eyes and fingers as if he's trying to burn the sight into his brain. you've been up close and personal with johnny more times than you could count, squeezed into the backs of trucks and squished impossibly close in pub booths, but he's never looked at you like this. like he was worried he'd never see you again, like it had been all he was waiting for.

something has definitely changed.

"i'm here now, and i've no plans of goin' anywhere anytime soon." johnny's eyes fall to where his other hand clasps yours, twisting his wrist so that the back of your hand faces upwards. a hum rumbles in his throat and he smiles, an almost lovesick smile that makes your stomach drop. "been thinking since i woke up," he says quietly. "and i don't want to wait anymore. it's time."

unease curls in your stomach, simon's earlier warning suddenly echoing like a siren in your mind. you should really speak to price before you see him. johnny doesn't seem to notice the gears turning in your mind as he continues trailing his fingers over your skin, watching the goosebumps raise along your arm intently. he moves down to your hand, your wrist still gripped in his, and pauses ever so slightly as his touch passes over the top of your empty ring finger. "time for what, johnny?" you ask slowly, carefully, gaze fixed on his dreamy expression.

cobalt eyes rise to meet yours. the corners of his mouth lift into a tender smile. "to get married, love."

your mouth goes dry. it feels as though he's knocked the wind out of you, the words slowly sinking into your bones like heat from a fireplace. to get married. to get married. to get married. the shock must be evident on your face, because johnny coos and cups the back of your head, tugging you face first into his chest once more. you're frozen, disbelief and confusion clouding your thoughts like smoke, and you shiver as johnny begins to stroke your hair and mumble quietly about making good on all his promises. "johnny," you stammer out, your voice muffled slightly by his hospital gown. "you know who i am, right? we're not - "

he scoffs, chuckling at you as if you're the one being silly. "of course i know who you are, love. could never forget you, no matter what happens to me." he ignores the way you shake your head at him, concern etching your brow as you sit up. "and i know, i know, we're not even living together yet, but don't worry. price was here earlier and i've already started working on charming him into giving us private quarters. might have to bend a few rules, but you know how good i am at that, don't you love?"

the sound of the door swinging open makes you jump in your seat. price strides purposefully into the room, simon in close step behind him. he stops abruptly when he spots you seated next to johnny, his mouth flattening into a straight line. "i see you got your visitor," he says lowly. he's speaking to johnny, but his eyes don't leave yours. something flashes behind them - concern?

no. a warning.

johnny doesn't acknowledge the unspoken conversation currently taking place in front of him. he continues absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin, grinning at the two men as if he's won the lottery. "and she was worth every second of the wait, sir."

"she couldn't stand to wait either, it seems." price's voice carries no malice, only what sounds like resignation. a chill slithers its way into your bones as your eyes bounce back and forth between your captain and lieutenant. simon stands wordlessly behind price wearing his usual indifferent glare, but his body language is indescribably off. there's tension in his shoulders, a guardedness you've never seen from him, at least not in the company you're currently in. price has never looked so utterly uneasy, his weight shifting from his left foot to his right. he drags a calloused hand over his face before taking a few steps forward, his hands resting on his hips. you barely register the feeling of johnny's lips pressing against your hand, too focused on the look of pure pity price is sending you.

what now? help me, your eyes plead.

the only response you get is an ill-boding sigh. "i really wish you'd listened to simon."