No Choice | Peter Ballard x Reader

Shocked

You panic as the men that dragged him to the infirmary carelessly throw him on the gatch bed that's farthest in the corner. While the two men are leaving, you push the beige curtains to prevent anyone from seeing Peter's semi-conscious body.

You gently touch the side of his face.

"God, Peter, what did they do to you?" you quavered. 

Your fretful voice puts Peter into a more conscious state as he opens his eyes. He does not have the energy to fake a smile. In fact, he doesn't respond in words. Peter gradually lifts his hand and weakly gestures to his neck.

You're quick to go and examine his neck. The slight touch makes Peter wince. You let out an immediate apology. You go to undo four buttons on his uniform, but your hands won't stop shaking. It's silly, you think, to get attached to someone so much that seeing them hurt scares you. It makes your heart race to the point it feels like you're suffocating. You can't breathe, and your eyes are tearing up. Your panic just settles in even more as you struggle to unbutton the fourth one. You just can't seem to get it off. 

Stop.

Breathe and get yourself together. 

You're not the one hurt, and you're the only person in this room that can help him. 

You have to collect yourself if you want to help him.

So that's what you do.

You take slow breaths as you swiftly wipe away your tears. You're sure that Peter can hear your panicked mess, but thankfully, as you look at his face, his eyes are completely closed.

With his uniform collar out of the way, you see darker patches on his neck with two black dots on each side, like he was struck with something. You'll ask him later what happened, but right now, you have more important things to focus on.

Examining the darker patches, you realize that they're burn marks. You desperately ponder who would do this to Peter. He's been so kind to the kids and has shown extreme reliability in the facility. You just don't understand.

You grab two small, frozen bags from the fridge and put it on each side of his neck. You watch Peter visibly ease up. His eyelids are less rigid, and his muscles stop tensing.

While the bags work to cool the burns, you set up the wires to the cardiac monitor.

You're going to need to attach five electrodes on his chest. 

You whisper out an apology as you undo the rest of his dress shirt. You need his chest to be completely uncovered in order for the monitor to accurately record the activity of his heart.

Peter's sweating. His skin is dangerously warm, and it feels nice against your cold fingertips. You work quickly to attach the electrodes on his chest. If it weren't for Peter being in such a poor position, you would be blushing.

"Peter?" you call out.

He doesn't open his eyes which prompts you to start gently shaking him.

All you can hear is the beeping of the monitor as Peter tries to lift his eyelids. Once he succeeds, you give him a soft smile.

"Are you having difficulty breathing?" you ask. You've never heard your voice be this faint.

Peter slowly shakes his head no. 

Catching sight of Peter's sleepy and drained form, you confirm to yourself that you don't need to sedate him, and you're more than happy with your decision, not wanting to puncture his already hurt neck with a needle.

Your heart is starting to sync up to the monitor's beeps. It took you a while, but as you watch Peter's chest rise and fall, your heartbeat steadies with it. 

Peter's eyebrows furrow, and you're quick to notice it.

Wanting to calm him down, you start playing with his blonde hair. 

You think you hear Peter let out a grunt of approval as your hand smoothly runs through his hair. You weren't really sure though because of the loud beeps from the cardiac monitor. Either way, you continue. His hair is really soft and healthy. It's fun to play with, and you can tell he really takes care of his hair.

You've always wanted to play with his hair. Every time that you see him, his hair appears to be so fluffy, and you yearned for nothing more than just a chance to feel his blond hair. 

"Y/n?"

You hear a knock on the door, and you swiftly stand up. You open the curtains to reveal Brenner.

"Ah, I see you've already dealt with Peter over there. Sorry about the trouble, but I just had to ensure that he knew the rules," Brenner specified.

You give him a strained smile.

"It's okay, but he's in bad shape, Dr. Brenner. Is it okay if I stay with him throughout the night—in case anything bad happens?" you ask. 

Brenner stands there and thinks. You can tell he's unsure, but you're hoping he allows it. The pause gets longer as he switches his focus back and forth between you and Peter.

"Yes, of course you can. We wouldn't want to lose one of our best orderly, do we?" Brenner states, and you release a sigh of relief. His steps are loud and prominent as he exits the infirmary. 

You turn around and look at Peter. 

You can tell he's out cold. He's so peaceful, and the sight makes you smile. You've never seen him so relaxed before. You make your way back to him, closing the curtains in the process. You only hope that he has a fast recovery; you can't stand seeing him in pain.

You glance at the two ice packs deliberately placed on each side of his neck. They've completely thawed. You take them out, carefully wiping the excess water off Peter's neck, and put them back in the freezer.

You grab a chair and set it next to the gatch bed and continue playing with his hair.

"Sleep well, Peter."

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979 words.

sorry if it got a little boring during the end <3