euphoria imagines

fezco #1

(i'd really appreciate it if you'd like and comment ❤️)

"Hey Rue. What's up?"

"Y/N, come to Fez's house right now please?"

"Why? If this is another excuse to get us together-"

"I swear it's not! Please, hurry! And bring whatever you need to treat a bullet wound!"

"To- what the hell? Rue?!"

The line went dead. You quickly managed to put everything you needed in a bag and rushed to the car. Your breath had quickened and your palms were sweating. You knew you were in no condition to drive but it's not like you had a choice. You assumed it was Fez who was hurt, it wouldn't have been Rue on the phone if it was her. Jesus, why couldn't they have normal problems like any other teenagers?! She should be dealing with a failed exam, not with a bullet wound.

You grabbed the bag and got off the car. Rue must have seen you coming because she opened the door before you even got there.

"He's in the sofa." If there was one thing you would have never wanted to happen, was your high school sweetheart lying semi-unconsciously with a bullet wound on his shoulder, being taken care by 13-year-old kid and your little cousin. But alas, here you were.

"Fez, can you hear me?" He moaned. Okay, he was awake. Good.

"What should we do?" Ashtray, who was holding what seemed like a very expensive t-shirt against the wound was looking at you worriedly.

"Oh, I don't know. Taking him to the hospital, maybe?!"

"No." Fez answered, eyes still closed. "They would ask."

You sighed. "You really should go to the hospital. I don't know what's the internal damage. What if the bullet has hit an artery, or if it has broken and it's travelled-"

"No hospitals." He struggled to open his eyes. You were having a hard time holding back your tears. "I trust you."

You nodded. "Alright."

"So, what do we do?" Rue was looking at you anxiously. "Are we going to remove the bullet?"

"We? You two stay back for now and let me work. First, I will clean the wound. We'll see from then." You took a deep breath. This was definitely not your area of expertise, but you weren't about to let Fezco die.

After thirty minutes of work —clean the wound, remove the bullet, close the wound— there was nothing more you could do. You had forced both Ash and Rue to leave (making sure neither of them had signs of shock). And now you were left alone with Fez.

"So," He cleared his throat. "I'm making it?"

You looked at him, lying in that sofa, covered in blankets, eyes hardly open. You were trying to be positive, but this was one of the worst things you have had to face. There's a reason why doctors aren't allowed to treat relatives and loved ones. Oh, did you just say that word?

"I think so, yeah. It looks like it."

"You don't look too happy about it." He looked at you with a grimace.

"Of course I'm not happy. Do you even know how dangerous a bullet wound is? Only one in five survive, that with appropriate medical attention. I've never been more scared in my life."

He was looking at you in a weird way, a soft smile on his lips. "C'mere." You sat on the floor next to the sofa. You moved your hand to his forehead. He didn't seem to have a fever. "I didn't know you cared that much."