Impossible [Law x Reader] [AU]

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Hey, I'm back!

This story is set in the modern time and both Law and you are surgeons in a hospital.

Warnings: Brief mentions of a panic attack and a death in hospital. Although I try to keep these things readable, continue under your own risk.

Enjoy!

(Photo: https://www.pinterest.es/pin/450078556492892232/).

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It had been a long day. A terrible long day.

You had plopped down on the floor of the locker room, resting your back against the wall, and had been staring at the ceiling for a good couple of hours now.

Other doctors and nurses had come and gone by, casting discreet glances in your direction, but none of them had stopped to talk or ask if you were okay.


You were not.


The door opened once again, the characteristic creak of its hinges reaching your ears, and soon there were muffled steps coming in your direction.

You didn't even bother looking down at whoever had decided to disturb your marathon of self-loathing for the tenth time in an hour, assuming that it was just another person coming in to change clothes and then disappear without saying a word.


The steps stopped meters away from you, only to resume their way seconds later. Their way being towards you. You only noticed this when the tall figure of Trafalgar Law blocked your view of the ceiling, soon stepping out of your field of vision and sitting down next to you, his back against the wall and his eyes staring at the same spot on the white surface.


Five minutes later, the room remained as silent as it first had been, and it was only then that you decided to speak.


"How did it go?"


Law looked at you from the corner of his eye. "Good. Her organs will help a lot of people."


You just nodded. That was all the positive information you would receive that day.


Your patient had been a ten year old girl that had flew all the way to your current location for you to take a look at her case and treat her. Surgery was her only option, and you had put all your efforts in perhaps the longest operation of your life.

But it hadn't been enough. She had died on the operating table.

Her parents had registered her as an organ donor, but that hadn't made the conversation any easier. You had watched them bursting into tears and had had to push them into giving you an answer. When they agreed, you left. And even when you had left to give the surgeon in charge the go ahead, you felt dirty.


"Here."


You gazed at the dark-haired man with furrowed eyebrows. He was offering you a chocolate bar. You took it and held it in your hand, glancing between it and Law, confusion written all over your face.

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