No

Well, I'm not even a proper physician yet, and I already want to die, so clearly the system is working as intended :D

Anyway, I would recommend reading the entire Skye POV set together, since it's been so long.

SKYE

“Skye?” Indigo groans, his voice groggy and laden with sleep.

Fuck. He woke up. You turn to look at him, an overly enthusiastic smile plastered onto your face. He sees right through you, doesn’t he? Any second now he’s going to yell at you. Time to leave before that happens.

“You’re awake! Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay! I’m going to let you rest now, bye-bye!” You say cheerfully and open the door to leave.

“Y-you’re going to leave?” Indigo asks, and the anguish in his voice makes you pause. What are you doing? Are you really going to abandon him after nearly killing him? He didn’t leave you after the smurf fucked you. He didn’t leave you when the Rattatas tried to eat you. And he didn’t leave you back in the Pokécenter. How can you leave him now? You stand in the doorway, freedom just a few feet away, but it feels like the one step you need requires all your energy. The silence stretches on as you stand there, your back to Indigo, who’s no doubt glaring at you.

“Do you want me to stay?” You ask, bracing yourself for his rebuttal. Here it comes, he’s going to yell at you now! Or he’s going to say no, that you can leave, and you don’t know which one is worse.

“Yes please.” He says quietly, his voice laced with exhaustion. Fuck! This is going to hurt you so much. You close the door and turn to face him. Indigo is looking at you tiredly, fatigue lining his face and exuding from his every pore. He looks so different than what you’re used to that all you want to do is hug him and say that it’s all going to be okay, but you can’t do that. Instead, you walk closer to the bed, standing halfway between him and the door.

“What happened Skye?” He asks, imploring you to come closer and tell him how you almost killed him. It would be so easy to lie and say that something else happened, but you won’t do that. He deserves the truth.

“You… Had an allergic reaction to the Nutbuster that I **** you to take. You almost died.”

“Oh,” Indigo replies, getting lost in thought. Oh no, he’s putting the pieces together. He had an allergic reaction to the ****, which he didn’t want to take but you **** him to, and now he’s going to yell at you.

“Are you okay?” Indigo asks, tired concern in his voice as he looks at you. Wait, what? He’s worried about you?! No, no, no! He’s supposed to get mad! You’ve been preparing yourself for that the entire time! He can’t just go off-script like this! “You look really upset, did you have a reaction too?”

“No! No, I’m fine, haha. It’s just you who can’t take ****.” You laugh awkwardly, cringing on the inside about how much of an idiot you sound like. God, why can’t he stick to the script in your head? Okay, time to turn this conversation around.

“So how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” You ask, hoping that if you’re helpful he won’t get mad.

“Can you turn on the heater? It’s freezing in here.” He responds quietly, trying to wrap himself in the thin hospital blanket, and you quickly walk over to the thermostat, only to realize that it’s locked. You failed at the one task you had to make him comfortable. Maybe you can go get him more blankets?

“The heating’s locked. I’ll go get you some blankets.” You say, and head for the door, but the voices on the other side make you stop. You can hear your mom and dad talking to your brother, and there’s no way you’re going out there because you’d probably make a break for it. Oh hi Mom and Dad, I’m too scared to talk to my former friend whom I nearly murdered via **** allergy because I think he’s going to yell at me! (Even though he’s been really nice so far!)

Ugh, there’s no way that would fly with them. Think! There has to be a way to warm him up without blankets.

“Uh yeah, so they have no blankets,” You say, turning back around, and Indigo gives you a confused look.

“You didn’t leave the room to check?”

“Nah, I don’t need to. You know hospitals, they’re underfunded and understaffed. They don’t have extra blankets. That’s why they rely on med students to work 12-hour shifts for pennies. It’s also why there’s so much burnout, and why doctors have no time for any hobbies, such as writing and reading smut. It’s criminal how much the administrators take home, while the people actually practicing medicine have to work for every single penny.”

“Oh. It’s okay.” He says sadly, and now you feel even worse. It almost feels like you kicked a puppy, and you feel like a monster for denying him warmth! But there’s still one way you have left to warm him up, you just have no idea how he’s going to react.

You slowly walk towards him as he looks at you with confusion. Making your way over to the side with no IV, you climb onto the bed, getting ready to dart the second his mood changes, but he allows you to crawl up to his side. Indigo wraps an arm around your shoulders and you **** yourself to relax as you lie down next to him.

“This is nice Skye, but are you sure you’re okay? You look terrified and depressed at the same time.” He asks, brushing a blonde lock of hair out of your eyes. You want to scream now because he’s so sickeningly nice! Where’s the anger of nearly dying? Where’s the pain he should be feeling?

“I should be asking you that question.” You reply, feeling like that’s a good response, “You nearly died. How do you feel? Any pain or anything?”

“No. I feel exhausted, but nothing hurts.” He groans, burying his face in your hair and you stiffen. Is he genuinely being nice? Does he really not care that you almost killed him?

“Indigo?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? People who nearly died shouldn’t be this calm.”

“I’m fine, it’s just another near-**** experience.” He replies, speaking into your blonde hair. You push his face out of your hair and **** him to look at you. He stares into your eyes evenly, his own brown eyes perfectly calm. But from the way his pulse is rabbiting, and the fact that it looks like he’s straining his facial muscles to seem peaceful, he’s definitely not fine.

“Indy, it’s okay to not be okay. You nearly died, and it’s okay to feel sad, angry, or anything else that you feel.” He looks away at your words, and you grab both sides of his face to **** him to look at you. He isn’t going to say anything unless you start first, is he? Oh god, you really hope this doesn’t backfire.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve been tearing myself apart from guilt over what happened. I was terrified that I was going to lose you, angry that it was all my fault, and I was sad that I was going to be alone again. And worst of all, I was about to abandon you in the hospital because-” You start sobbing at the gravity of the decision you were about to make. Abandoning your friend after nearly killing him because you were so fucking selfish, only worrying about yourself, never once thinking about-

“It wasn’t your fault Skye,” Indy says softly, “I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“B-but, I **** you to take the ****! You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t pressure you to keep going!”

How can he not blame you?! Even your own family said that it was your fault! You put him in this bed, and now he’s saying you didn’t?

“Okay, you kind of did **** me to take the Nutbuster, but you didn’t give me the allergy.” He gently pries your hands off of his face, his fingers meshing perfectly between your own. You gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, so full of concern for you, not even caring that you hurt him. “I didn’t even know I was allergic to aphrodisiacs, so how can I blame you? It’s not like you were intentionally trying to kill me, were you?”

“I would never!” You exclaim, and he sighs before smiling at you.

“I forgive you,” Indy says warmly, and then buries his face in your hair again. God, he was perfect. All you want to do is lie in bed with him, just feeling his heartbeat pulse through his veins as you warm him with your body. You snuggle closer and wrap your arms around his chest and your legs around his waist, holding him like a human-sized Komala. And after a few seconds, you can feel his breathing slow as sleep begins to overwhelm him.

Wait a minute. The bastard’s deflecting to avoid talking about his near ****!

“Indy.”

“Mmmm…?” He murmurs sleepily.

“It’s your turn.” You state sternly, and he mumbles something into your hair.

“Mmm?”

“I just told you how I felt, so now it’s your turn.” You yank your hair out of his face and jerk back when he reaches for you again. He makes a few more half-hearted attempts to grab your head, but you swat his hands away until he sits there like a scolded child.

“Do I have to?” He whines, and you roll your eyes.

“Yes. Now talk.” You cross your arms and wait, but he looks away awkwardly. Indy seems incredibly uncomfortable, and after half a minute of silence, your patience runs out.

“Well? Say something?” You prod, and he crosses his arms, wincing when he pulls on his IV and uncrosses them, still avoiding your eyes.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” He says quietly, looking once again like a sad puppy that you just kicked. “I’ve never done this before, and I-I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s okay,” You murmur, cupping his cheek, “I can wait.” He sighs in relief, and you lay back down and nestle his head in your chest, draping some of your hair over him, since he seems to love it for some reason. Forcing him to talk wouldn’t get you anywhere. You’d have to wait until he was comfortable enough to open up on his own. He snuggles closer, wrapping his IV arm around you and buries his face deeper in your breast. And it might be your imagination, since it’s so quiet that you almost don’t hear it, but you hear him whisper, “Thank you.”

Not sure why I expected to have free time as a doctor, but at least I can think of plot points while I look after my patients :)
(The above statement is a joke, I pay attention to my patients lol)

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