ONESHOTS ⊳ gavin reed x reader

[Terrified]

[The lovely @thedragonkween on tumblr, (or, alternatively Angifoxie on wattpad) requested this from a tumblr list of the angst alphabet, so here we are.

Enjoy. You're probably going to hate me for this.]

N-Need, How would they react if you needed emergency surgery?

Gavin reaches for the cigarette pack in the pocket of his leather jacket, hand trembling, breath stuttering. He fishes it out, looks at it. Looks at his bloodstained hands.

Stained with your blood.

The mental image of the bullet wound in your abdomen flashes before his eyes, engrained in his mind, his thoughts. He remembers the phone he had tucked between his shoulder and cheek, and how desperately he had pressed his hand against the gushing injury, and the blood that just wouldn't stop flowing.

He clenches his fist around the cigarette pack. Gavin can't believe that this little box was what he once considered capable of providing him with emotional relief. It's laughable at best. He smiles ironically, bitterly, feels the knot in his throat form. Tells himself to breathe. Just breathe. In, out.

He wants to open the pack, but realizes that he's crumbled up the cheap combination of plastic and cardboard along with its contents. Gavin cusses, but only a fragile, whimper-like sound that barely alludes to a swearword leaves his mouth.

Truth be told, he's scared—no, he's fucking terrified. Terrified of what might happen to you, from the damage you'll take from this. From doing your goddamn job.

He takes out one of the broken cigarettes and tries bending it back into place, but eventually gives up. It was stupid to believe that smoking would help when you are, quite literally, somewhere in the huge hospital he's standing in front of. In one of the hundreds of operation rooms, maybe bleeding out on the table, or becoming paralyzed from the waist down, or worse. He's seen it all. In his colleagues, friends, and for the first time, he doesn't want to know what the future holds. Just wants to go back and change everything. Change the fact that you woke him up with kisses that morning, that the two of you were, for once, on time for work, that you got assigned that damned fucking case, that he let you go investigate first.

"Mister Reed?"

The feminine voice rips him put of his thoughts, almost knocks him off his feet. Gavin realizes entire body is frozen with cold, and that there's snow on his shoulders and hair. The woman standing in front of him wears a white coat, and looks at him with an unreadable expression.

"Yeah. How—" He stutters, takes a deep breath. "How is my fiancée?"

"Would you like to sit down first?"