This Emergency Brought You to Me
Title: This Emergency Brought You to Me
Pairing: Patrick/Ashlee, Ashlee/Joe
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Car crash, inebriation, swear words and unbearable cuteness.
Author: Me! (xmexandxyoux)
A/N: It took me a long time to get the guts to post this. I think it’s just mostly the "Patrick-paramedic-wtf" factor. But I hope you guys enjoy it and it doesn’t fail.
Also, thanks to my muse :]
Credit: CIWWAF for their title.
Nurse Roberts and Sacred Heart belong to Scrubs, though I’m sure there is a hospital called Sacred Heart and a Nurse Roberts in real life.
Also, a line belongs to Juno.
Disclaimer: This absolutely never happened.
Summary: Nurse Roberts gave Patrick a welcoming nod as he walked into the hospital room the following morning, teddy bear in hand. He didn’t usually visit people, whether out of selflessness or simply fear.
It had been a hard night for Patrick. Aside from the splitting headache, which was only exacerbated by the flashing lights and blaring siren of the Sacred Heart ambulance, he stared down at the unconscious woman on the wet pavement, and realized he knew her. He didn’t know her know her, but she’d come to the hospital a month or so before. She’d been pregnant, he recalled. Gave birth to a healthy, beautiful, baby girl. And he was not about to let that child be orphaned.
"Clear!" He applied pressure with the defibrillator paddles to her chest. Nothing. "Clear!" She convulsed. Her eyes opened while her mouth contorted in pain. Patrick comforted her while Marissa and Erin loaded her onto a gurney, into the ambulance. She was going to be okay, eventually, he knew.
*
Nurse Roberts gave Patrick a welcoming nod as he walked into the hospital room the following morning, teddy bear in hand. He didn’t usually visit people, whether out of selflessness or simply fear. He’s an anonymous hero, the fact he’d saved their lives was enough reward. I’m here just to make sure she’d made it out okay ,he told himself.
She’d gotten out pretty badly, having been tossed from her vehicle like a ragdoll. A few fractured ribs and a couple of stitches; she was lucky. Ashlee Simpson now sat up in her hospital bed, deliberating on whether the runny eggs were cooked enough that she wouldn’t get Salmonella.
"I wanted to make sure. . . you were all right." Patrick offered as explanation for his anonymity having now been tainted.
"Do I look all right?" Ashlee asked with genuine curiosity, not audacity at his act of kindness. Patrick took in the bandage on her face, her leg in a cast, propped up, the scratches on her arms. He still thought she looked great, though he didn’t say so. "Is that for me?" She pried, eager.
"Yeah." Patrick handed her the bear, $3.99 from Walgreens on the way over, the tags still on, but she’s still touched by the gesture and the tears in her eyes show it. Instinctively, Patrick wanted to brush them away, but he doesn’t. Though there is a certain intimacy involved in bringing someone back to consciousness, it doesn’t exactly remain outside of the life-or-death situation.
"I never got a chance to thank you for what you did." She smiled, a crooked smile, and he told her, like he told everyone, that just knowing that she was okay was enough. Nurse Roberts smiled secretly to herself; she had a good feeling about those two. Patrick sat down in the stiff leather upholstery of the chair beside the bed, and the chair creaked in protest, it felt like it would give out any moment. Ashlee let out an unexpected giggle at the sound.
They began to converse in small talk, first about the weather, then onto hospital food, and finally, something the least bit personal: Ashlee’s baby. Bryn was Ashlee’s pride and joy. Only five weeks old, but already, Ashlee could feel greatness in her. Bryn was currently with a nanny and was scheduled to visit later in the day, perhaps after Ashlee had slept a bit and put on a bit of concealer.
"Wouldn’t want to scare the poor child." Was Ashlee’s nonchalant remark about the bruises that were sure to sprout on her face and arms.
"You ready for lunch?" Nurse Roberts entered with a non-appetizing tray of what apparently was disguised as the midday meal. Ashlee had barely touched her pale excuse for breakfast, but she nodded weakly, for all the talking had worn her out.
"Yeah, I should get going as well." Patrick got up and straightened his starch-white uniform and pressed pants. Ashlee reached for his hand and squeezed it gently, like someone at the dentist getting a cavity filled.
"Are you- Do you want to-" Ashlee corrected herself twice. "Will I see you tomorrow?" She blurted, not sure what the polite question would be.
"Wouldn’t miss it for the world."
*
Ashlee’s face lit up when she saw her baby, not unlike the way it brightened when she spotted Patrick in the doorframe the next morning, a Tuesday, same time, same place. No, he hadn’t been spying on her visiting with Bryn when he was supposed to have left. Rather . . . ’observing’. He saw the way she adored her little girl and such love made his heart swell. Nurse Roberts shot him A Look, but she didn’t tell Ashlee he’d been watching. Patrick was forever grateful. Eventually, Patrick decided it was a bit of an invasion of privacy and he’d just have to go home and count the minutes until he could see her again.
*
On the sixth day of their companionship, Patrick had the pleasure of meeting Bryn. The first thing Bryn did was grab Patrick’s glasses. The second was reject them and hurl them onto the floor. Patrick cringed and Ashlee grimaced. Bryn giggled and Patrick decided to forgive her.
That was how they spent the rest of the week. Patrick would visit Ashlee, same time, same place, wheeling her around in her wheelchair, buying her stale candy from the vending machine, making her smile even though it upset the healing cuts and contusions on her face. She didn’t mind. A little pain was worth some laughter. Or a lot.
*
"I wanna see mah’ daughter . . . I wanna see mah’ daughter . . . " A voice clogged with sleep and who-knew-what-else slurred. The source of the voice soon emerged from the hallway and into the room void of anyone but Patrick and Ashlee. Ashlee’s eyes closed as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A faint, "shit," escaped from her lips. Evidently, she knew him. And she wasn’t happy.
"Joseph," She spoke, her voice icy and unwavering, although Patrick could tell she was trying not to panic. "How did you find me?" The afro’ed stranger had an odor of alcohol and marijuana, in addition to his eyes glazing over, Patrick noted. How did he even get into the building? Joseph stood three feet from Ashlee’s bedside, wobbling a bit as if he wasn’t able to stand still.
"Chloe told me." He laughed mirthlessly. Ashlee’s fingers clenched angrily, but she knew her housekeeper would not have told him willingly.
"Why are you here?" She asked steadily.
"I wanna see mah’ daughter. Where iz she? Are ya’ hidin’ her? Are ya?" He pointed a shaky finger at Patrick who’d been sitting in his usual chair, unsure of what to do.
"Joseph, you can’t be here. It violates the restraining order. You need to leave." Ashlee held in her panic.
"I wanna see my daughter!" Joseph bellowed drunkenly.
"You can’t be here. You can’t see her. I’m going to have to take you back to court." Joseph took a step forward, threatening. Psychology and medical training notwithstanding, anyone could tell that Joseph was not mentally stable in his current state. Patrick called security. Dre and Charlie came within seconds, apprehending an inebriated Joseph shouting, "You can’t take me back to court! Fuck you!"
*
"You okay?" Patrick asked gently after Nurse Roberts had returned and a relative order had been restored. Ashlee remained in an upright position in bed, her hands pressed to her eyes. She nodded. "You want to talk about it- him?" She nodded.
"Joe is my ex-boyfriend. He’s a pothead and an alcoholic, only I didn’t know that until it was too late. Just before I found out I was pregnant, something changed. He just- he just stopped loving me." That was the first time Ashlee had admitted it aloud. The realization struck her and her face crumpled.
"You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to." Ashlee waved him away.
" Things just went from bad to worse after that, I guess. But I knew I had to stay with him because studies show that kids with two parents are less prone to being criminals and they’re just better off, you know? Then I thought and thought and I came up with the epiphany that having no father is better than having one who spends all his money on pot and booze and thinks you’re an accident."
"She has a father. She has me." Patrick stated as if it was obvious. Ashlee struggled to keep the tears from falling.
"I filed a restraining order. I couldn’t ever let him get near her. Or me."
"Was he dangerous?"
"He had the potential to be." That shut Patrick up for a moment and he went back to stroking her hair and just looking at her.
"You are so brave." Ashlee just smiled contentedly like a lazy cat in sunshine.
*
Ashlee curled up to Patrick’s side as they lay together in her hospital bed; her last night. The future was a horizon full of possibilities for the two, er, three of them.
"Someday you’ll be here again. On your own terms." Patrick whispered to Ashlee’s redhead, with a note of finality, even though nothing had really ended.
*
And she was.