Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shots And Imagines

Rosa Diaz- Ankle (c)

You had no reason to doubt Rosa's skill on her motorcycle but sometimes there are accidents that no matter what people tried to do something would happen. When the motorcycle skid across the tarmac, the two of you were thrown off and sent across the road. It took you a few moments to get your head together but as you pulled off your helmet, you realised that you were okay other than a few scrapes and bruises. Your first instinct was to look for Rosa, not caring about the bike but wanting to make sure that your girlfriend was in a good shape.

Across the strip of road, you saw Rosa trying to sit up on the pavement. A sense of relief washed over you, knowing that she was alive in at least a good enough situation to sit up.

"Rosa," you called out, your voice shaky.

You stumbled over to her, falling down beside her as she pulled off her helmet. She seemed slightly dazed but at least she was conscious.

"Are you okay?" You asked her.

Looking over her you tried to see if anything was visibly wrong with her. As your eyes glanced down to her legs, you let out a gasp.

"Fuck, Rosa!" You exclaimed.

She narrowed her eyes at you, not appreciating the loud noise. Her gaze followed yours, but she didn't seem nearly as concerned as you did about the situation.

"Stop screaming!" She croaked. "It's just a twisted ankle."

"Your foot is pointing in the wrong direction," you corrected.

"Okay, my ankle is very twisted," she tried to argue.

Rosa attempted to get onto her feet, but you forced her back onto the pavement, sitting down, hopefully not doing any more damage to herself. She wasn't impressed with you forcing her to sit down but she didn't have the energy to fight it.

You pulled out your phone from your pocket. The screen was no longer in pristine condition, but it turned on and you'd be able to call for an ambulance to be able to help Rosa so that's all you truly cared about.

"I'm going to get you help," you assured her.

Rosa shook her head. "I'm fine, just help me stand up."

You shot her a glare. Although you loved her, she was terribly stubborn, and it did cause you more stress than you were happy about.

"Just stay still," you berated. "I'm going to call an ambulance."

You dialled the three numbers and put the phone to your ear, praying it was only her ankle and nothing worse that was wrong.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.

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