Care (Slashers X Reader)

TWENTY-EIGHT

I'm gonna let y'all know right now that a comment on the previous chapter gave me the idea for this one so shout out to that person.

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How the hell did this happen?

When Jackson had left your room the previous night you were perfectly fine- bored, but fine. So when he was awoken by a guard pounding away at his door he was confused before that quickly turned to panic upon hearing the guards words.

Nurse (Y/N)! Her stitches opened and she's bleeding out!

Now he finds himself desperately trying to stop the bleeding while standing there in his pajamas. His eyes are wide with worry, hands soaked in your blood as he quietly begs for you to stay alive. The man grew quite attached to you in the days he got to know you and it would absolutely destroy him if you were to die on him. He'd blame himself for not being good enough.

Fuck! He mentally curses, trying his best to remain calm despite the amount of blood soaking the cloth under his hands. He just has to keep you alive and stable until the doctor can arrive. He can do that, right?

"Jackson!" Wanda comes into the room, surprisingly looking quite distressed. "Doctor Harold isn't answering. I don't think he'll be coming anytime soon."

"Dammit!" His jaw clenches, not even caring that he's losing it right in front of his boss. He rakes through his thoughts rapidly searching for a solution. It's take a second but he eventually lands on one that could either be your saving grace or what kills you. Determined, he looks at Wanda. "Get Hannibal."

The older woman looks at him like he's insane. "You want me to bring a damn killer in here?!"

"He's our best chance at saving her!" Jackson yells before taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Hannibal won't do anything to hurt her and he's the only other doctor in this building. If you don't get him, she'll die, and I guarantee that will make things infinitely worse for you."

Wanda glares at him before reluctantly agreeing, turning quickly to head towards the high risk ward with guards following. She knows that he's right. If they didn't do everything in their power to save your life then every damn one of those psychopaths will lose their shit. That's the last thing she needs.

Approaching Hannibal's room, she doesn't even wait for him to acknowledge her before having the guards open the door. Hannibal looks up from his spot in his bed, curious as to what's happening. It's been quite some time since anyone has entered his room and it's never been without saying anything.

"Is something the matter?" He questions as he stands, allowing the guards to muzzle and cuff him.

"I'll explain on the way." Wanda answers curtly, not wanting the others to overhear the situation.

Hannibal surprisingly obeys, letting the guards guide him out of the room. His curiosity is piqued far too much for him to complain or fight against it. Plus, this is a chance to finally get out of that room for a bit.

The second the ward doors shut behind them Wanda begins explaining. "Nurse (L/N) is in critical condition and you're our only chance at saving her. We're unable to contact the doctor that previously took care of her injuries so we've made the decision to trust you with this. If you even attempt anything that could harm her or others, I will have your ass thrown into solitary for the rest of your life, understand?"

Hannibal nods, though his mind is entirely focused on the fact that your condition is so bad they resorted to getting his help of all things. And the second he walks through the door to your medical room he completely understands.

There's a man rapidly working to help you though damn near everything around you is drenched in blood. Hannibal feels his throat tighten as he stares at you, taking in how weak and lifeless you look. You certainly downplayed your injuries when you came to visit them. While he had noticed the signs of you being quite injured he wasn't entirely sure just how bad it was until this moment.

"Remember what I said." Wanda voice pulls his gaze from your unconscious form. He nods firmly as he holds out his hands so the guards can unlock his cuffs. He'll need to be able to move as much as possible to help you.

Stepping up to the opposite side of the bed across from Jackson he examines the situation. To get the best idea of what to do he pulls back the cloths keeping you from bleeding out only for his heart to nearly stop. Long gashes go across your stomach, and further inspection shows that they likely aren't the original injury you had. While they appear to be in the exact same spot due to the torn stitches, he can see that these gashes are fresh and had not been in the process of healing.

Forcing himself to focus, he begins to work quickly and expertly at saving your life. He gives Jackson directions on what to do and he's pleased that the man doesn't hesitate to listen to him. The two men work tirelessly to save you and after many hours your wounds are closed and your condition is stable.

Hannibal, surprisingly enough, finds his hands to be shaking as he steps away from you. They were steady when he was working on you but now that he's done his nerves are showing. He didn't allow himself to think too much on the situation but he was absolutely terrified the second Wanda told him what was happening.

He had never felt such strong emotions before.

The thought of losing you scared him more than he thought it would. Seeing you bleeding out on that bed when he first entered the room felt like a nightmare. And when he had to dip his hands into you, he found himself actually hating it. Feeling your organs in his hands made him sick to his stomach.

Then there was the fact that you could die at any moment if he made the wrong move. That he could fail to save your life. That he'd be standing over you as you took your last breath because his efforts weren't enough. Because he was useless.

The only thing currently keeping him grounded is the slow repetitive beeping of your heart monitor. It's the only way he can tell you're alive without actively looking at you. He's almost certain that if he did look at you now he'd actually break down. His control over his emotions would simply snap and he'd be unable to stop himself from doing something horrible.

Staring down at his blood covered hands, he takes a few deep breaths, the air puffing against his mask. Once his hands stop shaking he turns away from your bed to head over to the sink. He needs to scrub the blood from his skin. Needs to rid himself of all reminders of what just happened. Leaving any crimson speck behind will drive him mad.

And that's the last thing he wants.

Going mad will make him snap which in turn will land him in solitary confinement. If he's down there then he'd never hear how you're doing or see you again. This same situation could happen again and he wouldn't be there to help save you. He'd be stuck in the basement completely unaware of you dying just above him.

No. He refuses to be in that situation. He refuses to put himself in a position where he can no longer be near you. That's what would truly drive him mad. And that's the last thing anybody wants.