Hatchetfield Stories

That's What I Like About You

I don't know how I managed to break the fourth wall for an entire scene but I did and I love it.

I am convinced Google thinks I'm in med school.

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
-Needles
-Injury mention

On another note:
I move in 2 weeks and I have no clue how it'll affect my (nonexistent?) writing schedule. Like a week later I start at my new school and I'll be able to write a lot more because they're gonna help me but I don't know if I'll write a lot of fanfictions or finally start on my actual book series :)
What I'm trying to say is maybe there'll be less uploads, maybe not. I just wanted to let you guys know what's going on❤

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"You're just gonna jab her with a needle?! How do you expect her to not notice?" Paul hissed.

"Emma hasn't been taking care of her leg properly, you and I both know that," professor Hidgens explained. "You distract her, I sedate her, and then we can properly treat the wounds. She's too stubborn to get it checked out, and I know she's been struggling to pay her bills since Beanies closed. This is the only way."

Paul nodded, walking outside and sitting down next to Emma. She shot him a smile before turning back to whatever video she was watching.

"The weather is pretty nice for the middle of October, isn't it?"

Emma hummed in response, not looking up. Paul glanced at the professor standing behind her. "Too bad the local swimming pool is still closed."

She chuckled, finally pausing her video to smile at him. "Paul Matthews in a swimming suit. I'd love to see- Ow!"

The professor pressed the plunger down before she could bring her hand to her neck, quickly shoving the syringe back into his pocket.

"What was that?!"

"A... bee?"

Emma shot up, her hand still on her neck. "Fuck!" She limped inside, Paul and Hidgens closely behind her to catch her when the sedative kicked in.

"Emma? What's wrong?" Paul asked.

"I'm allergic to bees!" she shouted as she frantically searched through a drawer, even as her knees buckled and she could barely keep herself upright.

The professor glanced at Paul for a second, before taking a step towards her. "Emma, dear, it could've been a wasp..." he reasoned, grabbing her shoulders to steady her. "You'll be alright."

"I don't feel alright!" she snapped, weakly fighting against his grip when he tried to pull her away, before she collapsed into his arms, unable to support her own weight.

"There you go..." the professor mumbled, holding her close as she stared at his calming smile, slowly figuring out what was going on.

"No..." she whimpered.

"Shhh, dear. You'll be alright."

Her eyes slipped closed, and her muscles relaxed as professor Hidgens lifted her into his arms, using her legs to push the door open.

"Come on, Paul. Let's go."

Paul nodded, hesitantly following him to his car. He would never forget the betrayed look in her eyes, seconds before she slipped into unconsciousness.

He sat down next to her as the professor buckled her seatbelt, her limp body falling onto Paul's lap as soon as he let her go. Paul stroked her head, whispering apologies while the professor drove to his house.

*** *** ***

Paul jumped up from his chair when a moan sounded from the bed.

"What the fuuuck?" Emma groaned, her words slurring.

"Hey, Em," he smiled when her eyes finally focused on his. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone tore my fucking leg off." She let out a pained moan as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "It's... It's still there, right?"

Paul chuckled. "Yeah..." He grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles. "A few stitches on the inside of your thigh had come loose, and professor Hidgens had to redo the entire row..." He averted his gaze. "I'm sorry we did this..."

Emma huffed. "I know it wasn't your idea, but you better treat me like a damn queen when we get home."

"Of course I will. Anything for you, your Majesty." He bowed, kissing her hand as she laughed. "I'll get professor Hidgens, okay?"

He opened the door, and was met with the professor standing in front of him. "I heard you talk. I figured you might need a moment."

Paul nodded. "Thank you."

Emma huffed when her professor entered. "Fuck you, Hidgens," she said, though her lips were curled up into a smile.

He smiled back, throwing the blankets to the other side of the bed, beginning to unwrap the bandage around her thigh. "I'm sorry, dear. You and I both know this was the only way."

"I do expect an A on our next test though."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that." He carefully prodded at the stitches, pulling back at Emma's wince. "I'm sorry dear, does that hurt?"

"Of course it fucking does!" she snapped, taking hold of Paul's hand.

"I have to set up an IV with some antibiotics anyway, I'll give you some painkillers."

Paul softly squeezed back when her grip on his hand tightened. This whole thing had probably not done much good for her fear of needles.

"Why do you even have all that shit? Is that even safe?" she asked as he grabbed the supplies.

Professor Hidgens chuckled, grabbing her arm to tie a tourniquet around her upper arm, but her eyes were fixed on the syringe that lay on the tray next to the bed. "There used to be a small hospital in Clivesdale, that only had three or four patients a month. It went out of business a few years back, and one of the nurses sold their equipment. Back then I still had my medical license, so I bought most of it. You never know when you need it."

"You have a medical license?"

"Used to, yes. They took it away after there was an... incident."

Emma winced when she felt his gloved hands clean her skin with an alcohol wipe, her eyes following the syringe when he picked it up, uncapping the needle. Paul cupped her cheek, gently turning her head to face him instead of the professor.

"Alright, Emma. Sharp scratch."

She closed her eyes, biting her lip as Paul watched the needle being poked into the vein. Within seconds, professor Hidgens had removed the tourniquet and was setting up an IV drip.

Paul smiled at her, kissing every knuckle on her hand separately, before leaning in to kiss her forehead.

"Alright, I'll leave you two alone. Try to get some rest before you go home."

The door closed, and Emma looked back at Paul. "As much as I hate both of you now, I'm glad you took the decision out of my hands. I thought about going to the hospital a lot, because this motherfucker hurt. I guess I was just stubborn."

Paul smiled, sitting down next to her and resting his head on her shoulder. "That's what I like about you, you don't let anyone tell you what to do, even if that's what you should do."

Emma laughed. "Maybe I should be the strong female lead in my own show, and you can be my dork boyfriend."

"Me?"

"Yeah! Who wouldn't want to watch a show about the most boring dude in town?"

Paul laughed. "Keep dreaming, Em."

"The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: A story about the most boring guy in town and his barista girlfriend, who is actually way too hot for him!" she said in a dramatic voice. "I think it could catch on."

"You could ask professor Hidgens to write it for you?"

"You know what? Maybe I will! And you'll play the lead?"

"In a musical? No thanks."

Emma elbowed him playfully. "Like I said, booooring!"

"Fine, but I won't sing."

Emma groaned dramatically. "But the lead has to sing at some point!"

"Well, there you have it. I will never be in a fucking musical."