Forget Me Not - One Shot Series

Trafalgar Law - Sweet

You don't remember what caused you to end up in a hospital bed, but you weren't in any pain. The steady beat of a heart monitor got your attention for a little bit, and the strong scent of bleach and disinfectants made your nose twitch.

You sat up slowly, and a vertigo in your head brought your hand up to some bandages wrapped around it. A dull aching throb was the first sense of pain you'd had upon waking up, but even as uncomfortable as it was, it wasn't alarming. You didn't feel like you were going to puke, and your vision wasn't doubled.

The small room was clean and comfortable enough, and you got the distinct impression that you were under water, in a submarine. Why you believed that was beyond you, but you were very sure about it, and not bothered by it.

After a moment a tall man with dark hair came into the room. He was looking at a chart, and while you were certain he was a doctor, the jeans and t-shirt seemed a little informal, not to mention the tattoos and earrings. It was a nice change of pace, and he was certainly cute, but it was a little jarring.

"Heya, doc." You say, giving a little wave as he looks up.

His eyes widen for a second before he smiles. "You're up. Good. How do you feel?"

You move your hand back and forth. "So-so. A little dizzy, but nothing bad. Nothing hurt until I sat up, but the dizziness is already passing."

"That's good." He sets the chart down and pulls out a small light, flashing it into your eyes and giving you an easy smile as he watches your pupils react. "Hungry?"

"Little bit." You answer before looking around the room. You look back at the doc and give him a sheepish look. "What... happened?"

"Pardon?" The easy smile fades and there's a look of concern on his face.

You tap the bandages around your head. "I don't know how this happened."

He straightens up, and gives you a look that's uncomfortable. His eyes are searching, and his brows are furrowed. As much as he's trying to keep his turmoil internal, you can feel your own pulse starting to rise in concern.

"What do you remember?" He asks finally.

"I..." You pause, brows furrowing, dread clawing up your chest. "I..." You can hear the heart monitor beeping faster, and the doctor's hands are on your shoulders. "I!"

You can't think of your name. You try to place people you should know - a friend, family, a job, something you enjoy.

"It's okay," he asserts, trying to catch your gaze, but your eyes are darting around. Everything is too close, too hot, too foreign. There's no enough air in the small room and fear grips your neck.

"I can't remember anything!" You cry, tears heaving out of your eyes as what little food you had left heaves out of your stomach. The doctor doesn't step back and your anxiety rises, the need to apologize swirled away in the maelstrom of your lost memories.

Lost sense of self.

"I can't!" Your fingers claw at the poor doctor, who moves quickly to grab your wrists. Before you're even aware of it you're pinned down to the bed, his commanding voice bellowing names you don't recognize. "I can't remember!" You cry, thrashing in pure panic as two more come into the room.

Every breath feels like glass dust, burning, cutting and choking you, but you can't stop trying to pull oxygen into lungs that are desperate for it. You wanted to get out of the room, to run until your lungs burst, to outpace the fear gripping your heart and screaming for you to remember.

Dark cropped hair, longer strawberry red, they move with efficiency and the bed bucks and rocks as your beat and thrash against it and the binds that are trying to hold you to it. Panic and fear are becoming terror, you can't remember your name, you don't know where you are, or why you're there. Everything was okay, it was all comfort and understanding until you tried to think on it. Tried to focus on it.

You had to get away! How could you have forgotten! Your own name, your own self, everything! It was all blank and if you could just get away! If you could leave you could outrun it!

You roar in frustration and fear, causing everyone around the bed to take a step back.

The doctor shouts orders and the other two move with similar practiced efficiency again. Syringe and medication, the doctor's focus shifts, and the other two turn back toward you. Worry on their faces, soothing sounds falling from their lips, words lost to your fear and rage, drowned by a heart that pounds so fiercely in your chest your vision hazes red.

Four hands hold your arm perfectly still even as the rest of your thrashes and screams. The pinching sting of the needle goes completely unnoticed, but the effects of the drug that seeps into your vein is fast-acting.

The panic and terror stays in your eyes for only a moment before the drug relaxes you so much you fall back into an easy sleep.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

You don't remember what caused you to end up in a hospital bed, but you weren't in any pain. The steady beat of a heart monitor got your attention for a little bit, and the strong scent of bleach and disinfectants made your nose twitch.

Your body feels heavy, like you slept so deeply that it didn't want to wake. There's someone sitting by your bed with dark hair and sideburns. The goatee frames a familiar face, golden earrings glinting softly in the dim light of the monitors.

Deep golden eyes look up from whatever he was reading, and he smiles. "Hey."

"Hey." You say back quietly.

"You hit your head." He says evenly, carefully. He takes your hand into his gently. "You might not remember much, but it's okay. Missing memories after a head injury happen."

You wince a little and shake your head. "Yeah, it's... kind of hazy. Thinking hurts." You grunt a soft laugh and focus on his eyes. "What happened, Law?"

All the air leaves him and he presses his forehead to your hand.

"Law?" You question and he shakes his head, squeezing your hand.

"A minute," he says, in a voice hoarse and nearly cracking. "Just... give me a minute."

"... Are you crying? I'm sorry, I must've scared you when I got hurt." You offer, sitting up enough to run your hand through his hair. You can hear the shuddering breath he draw in, eyes wet against your hand, even if you can't see the tears, you can feel them.

He shakes his head again, turning his head enough you can see the tears drying against his eyes as he keeps your hand against his cheek and your other hand in his hair. There's a soft smile on his lips and relief in his face.

"You don't have to apologize." He insists, kissing the top of your hand before he leans up toward you. He pauses for a moment, searching your eyes. "Snow drop."

You smile, ruffling his hair with your fingers. "Yes, my love?"

He leans closer, giving you a gentle kiss, you can taste his tears on his lips. Once, twice, the sweet and slow kisses are light and gentle, and maybe a little desperate. He leans back enough to lightly kiss the tip of your nose.

"Don't ever call me doc, okay?"

"But you are," you reply, leaning toward him and initiating a kiss yourself.

"I'm a captain too," he points out.

"Alright then - mmmph!" Your words are halt as he slips a hand along the side of your face, pulling you into a kiss that's a little heavier than the ones before.

"Don't call me captain either." He huffs, gold eyes shifting from your lips to your eyes. "Please."

"Of course." You agree, kissing the tip of his nose this time. "How about Traffy?"

He grunts, his smile turning into a soured frown even if his eyes are still alight with joy. He starts to say something and stops, pulling you into another kiss. The salty taste of tears has given way to a soft warmth, and you notice an errant tear slip down his cheek as he leans back again.

"If it means you still remember me, you can call me Traffy." He admits, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. As though you'll float away if he risks letting you go.