Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw One-Shots

The Nut-Job in 284

a/n: heyyy people! I call this one a Saturday Special! And I'll be trying to uplode every Tuesday to this one-shot series and my Paul Atreides one-shot series (um yeah i have one!) and might post on one or the other every so often on a Saturday! Anywho, enjoy this Saturday Special!

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'Y/n, you can deal with my patient, I'm out.' Lizzie huffed as she walked into the break room at the hospital on the Navy base.

'What's wrong?' You asked, sipping your hot coffee.

'He insulted me, Maggie and Jordan. None of the doctors can get him to cooperate, he's a pain in the ass. A complete nut job. He doesn't belong in the hospital, he belongs in a damn insane asylum.' Lizzie said. She poured a cup of coffee as aggressively as any 4'9 nurse could.

'I can try.' You shrugged. Lizzie gave you a grateful smile while she handed you the clipboard with all of his information.

The patients name was Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, Callsign Rooster. He had been put in the hospital after being in a head-on collision with another car and getting a mild coma causing blindness, temporary or permanent is unknown. 

'He was admitted yesterday morning?' You said in shock.

'This man works fast.' Lizzie hummed over her mug.

'Let's see what I can do.' You sighed as you stood up.

'You're magic, Y/n, use it.' Lizzie smiled overly sweetly at you. You were often stuck with the stubborn patients because you too were overly stubborn and didn't tolerate any stupid behaviour from anybody. 

You slipped your soft hairnet back over your tied up bun and grabbed your lucky pen. You walked out the doorway and down to room 284 where Bradley Bradshaw was being held.

'You on your way to the asshole in 284?' Dr. McCopper asked as she passed you.

'Unfortunately.' You answered.

'Y/n use your magic.' She called out.

'That's what everybody says!' You shouted back. 

A few hallways later, you found yourself face-to-face with the tan door that was room 284. You opened the door and cleared your throat to announce your presence.

In the bed was a tan man, he was no taller than 6'0 with brown hair and a thick moustache. His hospital gown sat snug around his chest and upper arms, showing off his muscles. Unfortunately his eyes were covered in white medical cotton eye patches, held down with small pieces of medical tape.

'Hello, Lieutenant Bradshaw. I'm your new nurse, Y/n Y/l/n.' You said in a cheery voice. You walked up beside the man, who didn't flinch at all.

'Last one didn't last very long.' Bradley said.

'She has many patients to tend to. Seems only fair I take the weight off.' You replied, checking Bradley's vitals.

'Meaning she's more popular than you.' Bradley remarked. 'So you're not needed, and stuck with the hopeless ones like me.'

'You're not hopeless, Lieutenant-'

'Please, if you're going to be here long enough, call me Bradley.' He said in an extremely sarcastic tone.

'Bradley, you're not hopeless. Your blindness could only be temporary.' You tried to be positive.

'I'm not stupid, Nurse. I'm done for. My career is over.' Bradley brooded.

'Well, you don't have to be a pilot. You could be a consultant, or strategist. A wide array of things.' You said as you hung the clipboard up on a hook. Though his mood was rapidly getting on your nerves.