Collection of One-Shots

》stranger things

The phone buzzed violently in the cup holder of her black SUV. She had never liked talking on the phone and driving but after a second when the number registered to a contact name and a picture of Christine popped up she answered without hesitation. The nurse was close to hysteria and it worried her, "Christine? Slow down." It's Stephen, he's been in a car wreck, in the operating room now. Come quick, Ell. The line goes dead and Eloise slams on the brake, turning sharply to head back towards the city from the old country road.

Nurses, patients, and doctors alike are stunned when she entered the Emergency Room, frantic and scared after driving nearly two-hundred miles in just over two hours. He had been in surgery for almost seven hours when the swinging doors were pushed open and his hospital bed wheeled out. Christine waved her over and they followed, waiting outside his room while they righted the machines and made sure his arms were lifted properly.

"What's the news?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear it.

"His hands, the nerves, they're in ruins. We don't think he'll ever be able to operate again," Christine saw how she took a sharp breath and nodded, "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm not the one you should be asking," Ella responded. Christine bit her cheek to hold in her tears but there was nothing Eloise could do to stop the flood. It was a strange type of crying, part grief, and part joy. He was alive, but at the cost of losing everything. When Christine was confident that Ella had settled in for the night, she left, promising to be back in the morning. Ella pulled the visitor's chair next to the bed and sat down, crossing her legs.

She almost laughed at how terrible he looked, far from the handsome boy that had taken her to prom and celebrated with her when their acceptance letters came. His left eye was swelled shut and painted in blues and purples, two butterfly bandages held together a cut on his forehead and next to his eye. The worst of it was his hands, surgical pins had been placed in his hands and up the length of his forearms. Seeing the x-ray pictures made her cringe. Ella leaned forward and placed her hand on his forehead, "What am I going to do with you, Strange?"

He took a rushed and panicked breath that startled her from the daze of waking up, "Stephen, it's alright. You're going to be alright." Christine had returned and broke the news, Eloise already knew he would not have taken it well. The injection of morphine soon caused him to slip back into sleep and Ella laid your head on the hospital bed, wishing to hold his hand.

After the third night of sleeping in the small and uncomfortable chair, Christine laid her hand on Ella's shoulder, "I can take care of him if you need a break."

She shook her head, she wanted her friend, not a break, "I'm not going to leave him, Christine. He's my best friend."

The nurse laughed, "You have shitty taste in friends." Eloise had to laugh as well, being friends with someone with an ego the size of Russia was at times the hardest thing she had ever done. "He's a pain in the ass sometimes, but I still love him."

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"I'm fucking tired of seeing this damn beard," he turned his head away from the window and his reflection and back to Ella. She disappeared for about an hour and returned with a bag full of grooming supplies. Her motions with the razor were smooth and practiced, she had taken care of her dad until he passed, refusing to stick him in some home until he died. Ella wiped away any residual cream with a warm rag and smiled, "look at that, smooth as a baby's bottom," she laughed at her own poor joke that failed to provide Stephen with any sort of amusement. With a heavy sigh, she capped the shave cream can and dropped the razor into an old coffee mug. When she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, his skin tingled with the aftermath of her lips.