Imagines 2.0

y/n is a surgeon and Michael wants his wife back

tw: angst, curse words, mentions of surgery // wc: 1663

Michael tore down her pants, her underwear and rid of her bra. he led her into the shower, and turned on the water to the exact temperature she liked it. he let her hair fall loose, and put the hair tie around his wrist.

he stepped in the shower next to her, and he poured some shampoo in his hand, rubbed them together and put them in her hair. she closed her eyes out of

instinct.

all Michael wanted was to hear her voice. to hear her say something other than 'there was more i could do' and 'i could have saved her' and 'if i had time, i could have clamped the aorta'

After he rinsed out the shampoo and conditioner, he squirted out the body wash on the luffa sponge, and started to wash her arms. he washed her back, and down her chest.

he was getting too used to this. taking care of her like this. like she was already an old woman who lived in a nursing home.

they had vowed to each other to take care of one another when times were rough. they vowed to love each other even when they hated each other. they vowed to be there even when they didn't want to.

they vowed all of those things and more until death.

and even though it was hard for him; he still vowed. and he intended to keep it until he died.

he took her out of the shower and dried her off. he threw one of his long sleeves on her body and let her step into a pair of black underwear. he dragged them up her body, and he thought he would ask if she wanted shorts or not. Even though he knew she wouldn't answer. she rarely talked.

"do you want a pair of shorts? i can go get the plaid ones that you like." he asks, standing in front of her, scrunching her hair with a towel to help with the droplets falling off.

she stares blankly at him, just like she is looking through him- not at him. "i needed to clamp the aorta." she mutters, "she would have lived if i had clamped the aorta."

she looks into his eyes and hers dilate a little. "y/n-" "the aorta. i needed to clamp the aorta." he presses his lips together and sighs through his nose. "no shorts i guess."

Michael leads her to the bed, since she wont go anywhere on her own, and lets her sit down on the mattress. Michael goes to turn the bathroom light off and walks back to the bedroom. south jumps up on the bed, crawling between her and Michael.

he turns over and looks at his wife, studying her cheek bones. her jaw, and her hairline. he studied the scar on her nose that she got when she was a child, and the scar on her lip when she thought it would be a good idea to get a lip piercing.

and all she did was stare up at the ceiling. all she did was envision the surgery that was supposed to put her on the map. the surgery that was supposed to make medical history.

and, all she needed to do was camp the aorta.

Michael woke up to the sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen, he turned over to see if y/n was awake, and she was. because she wasn't lying next to her.

"y/n?!" he practically jumped out of bed, throwing the covers on the opposite side. he walked out of the bedroom hallway and to the top of the stairs. he saw y/n in the kitchen, with what looked like a piece of meat on the kitchen counter and a knife in her hand.

tears were streaming down her face but she didn't seem to listen. Michael carefully walked down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "y/n, its three in the morning, what are you doing?"