#wellgh0st

@wellgh0st

“...am not a burden,” Reagan finished for him. “Listen, we both have our problems. We both have things that hurt us and haunt us. And you have always allowed me to come to you with mine. Hell, even now knowing how dangerous that is, your door has always been open to me. So is my - albeit metaphorical - one. Because I know you’re being honest when you say I’m not a burden to you - you’ve never been anything but honest with me - so I need you to hear me when I tell you the same: You’re not a burden. Not to me. Not now. Not ever. I choose you, and every single thing that comes with you - good, bad, and in between.”

This was a rather long shift , his second in his double. So to say that he had just taken a moment to sit down at the nurses station to close his eyes was a fair assessement. And maybe, just maybe he had let his guard down for a second he went further than he meant to into disconnecting from this ED.

When spoken too, it was less of a startle and more of a jolt back to active duty so to speak. Eyes landing directly on who was talking. The burden of hyper vigilance was sometimes a gift, you did not take much to be back to running. "You good." He cracked his neck and picked one of the iPad.

@wellgh0st

Reagan was just trying to do something nice for Howie, to thank him for helping Ciara, and she was being honest when she told him this was her only real talent. But had she known that his shifts lasted as long as a game of golf on TV, she would’ve taken off. Because she hadn’t slept in a while, and before she even realized what was happening, she’d completely passed out. However, there was a reason why she was generally careful about where and when she slept. And at the feeling of someone tapping her shoulder, she jumped - and it was clear she wasn’t just startled. No, she was afraid.

So she instantly put a hand up, telekinetically knocking Howie back onto his ass.

“Being myself is really …”

She hesitates, tongue lingering at the edge of her teeth as she tries to find the right thing to say. It wasn’t ‘complicated’ as much as it was ‘impossible to explain’. The flinching, the ghosts, the magic. Her life was a series of impossible to explain things, and she would just as soon dismiss them entirely. Like she could just decide to be an entirely separate person. Just when she was with Howie, though.

“I don’t know how to do that anymore. And I think I’ve spent too long not trying to be a human. Does that make sense?”

Dominic was paged at the same time as Dr. Walker for an MVA - car vs. a boy on a bicycle, couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven years old. But while the boy was showing signs of bleeding in the abdomen, the doctors were struggling to finish an exam. Despite the obvious pain, fear was winning out. The boy was screaming, and crying out for his parents, and thrashing around in a way that had Dominic internally flinching. He met Dr. Walker’s gaze, offering him a small nod. They needed to start a line, they needed to calm him down so they could determine exactly what was wrong, and then get him up to surgery. He’d seen Dr. Walker work before, he was their best option of achieving that.

Reagan couldn’t remember the last time she received an honest-to-goodness present. Not change from panhandling, or donated clothing, but something meant specifically for her. Something that said someone was actually paying attention when she rambled, and made a point of doing something with that information.

She took a moment to go through the binder, to savor the art, but when she hit a certain page - she couldn’t stand the excitement anymore, she teleported to Howie’s place. She was willing to wait until he got home from the hospital to talk to him - it wasn’t like she had anywhere to be - but thankfully he was there which meant she ran up to him as she spoke, “These are amazing - absolutely amazing! But who is this? Do you know who this is - this Peach Momoko? I want to be her new best friend, her art is astounding! And what about this one? I think I had it before I left home, but...” She trailed off, realizing she was bouncing around but hadn’t even taken a moment to say ‘thank you’ or, you know, ‘hello.’ She moved to wrap Howie in a hug, telling him, “If it wasn’t already abundantly clear, I love it. Thank you so much, Howie.”

“Is it morning?”

She’s still groggy, even as she leans in, pulling Howie into a deeper kiss just to groan into their mouth. God, it felt criminally early. Or maybe it was late? Hadn’t she just meant to take a nap? Eyebrows furrow, and she laughs at herself, nestling herself in even closer as she leans up onto her elbow to try to find a clock.