Prompt me
In honor of the finale this week or whatevs you want to call this, I'm doing prompts again.
So.
Prompt me what you wish you'd gotten to see in Season 7 or what you'd like to change about Season 7 or what you'd like to see in Season 8 and I'll write you a drabble
So.
Prompt me what you wish you'd gotten to see in Season 7 or what you'd like to change about Season 7 or what you'd like to see in Season 8 and I'll write you a drabble
He was just pretty sure the whole thing was all his fault.
He dropped the instrument tray, he told her to do the surgery on Derek, no matter where you started you could trace a line, connect the dots, and it all came back to him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and she stared at him, uncomprehending.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head.
“Can’t what?” he asked.
“Can’t feel anything,” she whispered.
He ripped off his glove and pulled at hers, pressing his skin to hers. “You feel that?”
She squeezed his hand and he nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Good.”
She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I want…”
“Want what?” he prompted.
“To get out of here.”
“Come with me,” he said. “Come with me and we’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ll take you.”
She stared at him, stared into his eyes so deeply he wanted to flinch and look away, afraid of what she’d find there but he held her gaze, tried to will some kind of strength he couldn’t find for himself to her.
“Can you get up?” he asked. “Can you get up and walk out of here with me?”
“I…I don’t know,” she admitted.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “I’m right here, and I’m with you, and I’ve got you, and we’re going to take it one step at a time and walk out of here, okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
He smiled weakly. “Okay.”
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