𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀, 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

"alright," the doctor muses with a small smile painted across his aged face. he pulls off the blue latex gloves from his hands. "it's healed beautifully, miss. ocean." he stands up from the rolling chair, disposing of the gloves.

you rolled your shirt down, giving debbie a small smile. "see? i told you that it'd be alright, kiddo." debbie adds with a smug smirk.

"yeah, yeah." you dismiss her with your hand.

the doctor rips a page off his clipboard, handing it to debbie. "since (y/n) was injured so close to her lungs, there has been some abnormality in her breathing," he explains. you nod your head along in agreement. he was right, you had been getting winded from walking up and down stairs and couldn't really move around too much without some type of break in between. "so, i've prescribed an inhaler for her. it doesn't have to be permanent, but it can help her relieve some of her discomfort."

debbie took the slip of paper from the doctor. "thank you, we'll be sure to do that."

"perfect!" his hands clasp together. "you can even pick it up today from the pharmacy downstairs."

you follow debbie back into the house, fiddling with the cold inhaler. it was a strange thing to get used to, but you had already noticed how much it helped you breathe. you collapse onto the living room sofa, laying facedown and motionless on the light grey cushion.

"care for something to eat?" debbie calls from the kitchen.

"no thank you," you call back, voice muffled by the cushion.

you hear her grab some pots and pans from the cabinet. "mac n' cheese or soup?" she calls to you, opening the fridge, inspecting the ingredients in the fridge.

"neither," you mumble into the couch cushion.

debbie grabs the milk, butter, and cheese from the fridge. "mac n' cheese it is," she hums.

you peel yourself from the couch, inspecting the inhaler in your hands. this past week had been super stressful. the impending weight of the cps situation and worrying about the effect you had on the women's heist plans, was crushing you. but you noticed the inhaler helped a little bit with the pressure on your chest. you walk into the kitchen, sitting down on the island.

debbie instantly picked up on your down demeanor. "hey babe," she says with a kind smile. she stirs the cheese sauce in the pot. "what's on your mind?"

you sigh, fiddling with the inhaler. "i'm nervous about cps," you murmur. glancing up at debbie, you continue. "and i feel bad about all the heist stuff."

debbie stops stirring and looks at you with a soft expression. "there's nothing to feel bad about, (y/n)." you chew on the inside of you cheek. "it was a unanimous decision to stop all that stuff after you got hurt," she explains. "everyone agreed, kiddo. your safety wins. every single time."

"are you sure?" you meekly question. "because if it's a problem, i can stay at home! i won't ever interact with anyone outside our inner circle. maybe i can even help you plan for them? or i can try and find my own place --" you start to ramble.

"(y/n)." debbie firmly says with her eyes glued on you. "there is absolutely no problem. it should've came to a complete halt when you started living with us. that's on us, not you. okay?"

you bite down on your lip, nodding your head. "okay."

debbie resumes making the mac 'n cheese, occasionally glancing back up at you. seeing you on the ground of the factory, bleeding out and hardly responsive, put her on edge. she clung to you the entire ride to the hospital and during your stay. the guilt she felt never easing. the nightmares never stopped, either. she found herself coming into your room, late at night after one of the nightmares, just to make sure you were there and breathing. she could never forgive herself. "and that cps situation won't be that big of a deal, babe. it'll clear up soon. there's nothing to worry about."