Here we go! I have this posted on a different story, but that was a collection of different oneshots/short stories, so I wanted to post this as its own story. :)
Hope you like this story! Let me know what you think!
God Bless and Good Day
~The Lupine Sojourner
When I say the word 'Judge', what do you think of?
The wigged old guy behind a podium with a scowl and a gavel?
Or perhaps, like me, something more...intense, violent, and...hopeful? Because that's what I think when I say 'Judge'. In my head, I see a proud, strong man in body armor and helmet, badge gleaming in the sun and Lawgiver clutched in his hands as he strides toward me, fond, satisfied smile on his face as he reaches up to take his helmet off.
At least, in my dreams. Yeah, yeah, I know. Laugh it up. I mean, me, meet a Judge?
No way. It may just be a dream, but...I couldn't help it. Judges held a high amount of respect and admiration in my mind, even if I'd never meet one in person.
At least...until I heard a bump on the roof of my small apartment. I always considered myself grateful and lucky to have rooftop access, but now I was dreading walking up those stairs, glock in hand and heart pounding.
"Who's there?" I call as I step onto the roof. I pull the hammer back and swallow thickly. I hear a groan and someone stumbling as they try to stand. Cursing- -drunk attackers were more random, harder to fight off- -I inch forward. "You better come out! I'm armed!" I warn as I round the final bend and come face to face with…
A bloodied, beat up male Judge. Instantly, I release the hammer and holster the gun even as I race forward. I needed to get him off the roof now. Especially since someone may or may not still be looking for him. I suck in a breath to prepare myself and heave him up, drawing his arm over my shoulder. The Judge doesn't resist or protest, merely stumbling along beside me in an almost drunken fashion I knew to mean he was only just this side of conscious. I grit my teeth and hurry him inside, stumbling down the stairs and into my apartment before gently letting him down on my couch. Within seconds, his breathing deepened and evened out in unconsciousness. I bite my lip, unsure if that was a good thing or not as I grab a scanner that would pick up any of the more serious injuries, such as internal bleeding.
The only thing is he has four broken ribs, and not major fractures, either. In fact, they were hairline fractures, really. Good. They're easier to fix. I grab the ready-to-use cast tape and groan as I realize I'd have to get all that body armor off.
I bite my lip and frown before spotting a buckle that should unclip one shoulder of the armor. It does and I then unclip the other one before gently tugging the man up and leaning his head against my shoulder while I tossed the armor aside. Something told me I shouldn't take the helmet off, so I don't even reach for it. Beneath the armor is a simple leather shirt that shows where the armor has cracked the ribs. I remove it as quickly but gently as possible and then the man groans.
I swallow, nervous, but he remains unconscious, so I continue, debating whether or not to remove the plain black wife beater that formed the final layer. I eventually do take it off, revealing tough, slightly scarred, but rock-solid abs and pecs that hardly had an unbruised square inch on them. Fighting off a blush, I lean him against my shoulder again- -this time kneeling on my knees to keep the ribs as straight and in line as possible- -and begin wrapping his ribs. That done, I lay him back down and scan him again for any other injuries. There are none, thankfully. It must have been the fall onto my roof that both dented his armor (cracking his ribs) and ended up knocking him out.
But...fall from what? What height could do that to someone? A helicopter? Maybe. I shake my head. I suppose I won't know til he wakes up. Suddenly, the adrenaline drains and I sag into a nearby armchair to wait.
Then, as suddenly as I had woken up, I fell back asleep.
=#=#=#=#=
"Citizen." The simple word has me sitting bolt upright in less than half a second.
"Y-yes?" I reply, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and drool from my cheek.
"Where am I?" He asks. I yawn and stand, stretching.
"One of the residential buildings in the 7th district on 3th street." I explain, coming to check him over. "Your ribs have set nicely." I muse off-handedly.
"What?" He asks, frowning. I chuckle.
"Four of your ribs had hairline fractures. I wrapped cast tape around them, so you'll be fine." I explain. He sits up, but I push him down, the unexpected move giving me an edge.
"Oh, no you don't." I tell him sternly. "You, sir, are staying down on that couch until at least tonight." He snaps his head to me.
"What?" He demands indignantly. I set my jaw.
"I'm serious." I snap, crossing my arms. "You had a concussion, four fractured ribs, and so many bruises, I thought someone bathed you in blueberry juice. You're staying right there." He tries to sit up, but I shove him back down. "I mean it!" I snap.
"I can't stay. I have to report to- -"
"The Hall of Justice can wait. You need to recover." I snap. He tries to sit up. I put a hand on his chest. "I am dead serious! A few hours of rest will do you a world of good." His lips turn down in a frown, but he concedes and obeys. "Thank you." I say as I sit back down. "What happened, anyway?" His head turns toward me and I elaborate. "How'd you get on the roof?" He frowns.
"I was attempting to wrest control of a helicopter from residual members of the Ma-Ma clan. Suspects did not comply and I was tossed out." He explains in a monotone voice, as if he's done this a lot. My eyebrows rise and I smirk.
"Oh? You make it sound like a common occurrence." I muse, smirking. He sighs.
"I get injured regularly on the job. It's an occupational hazard." He replies.
"I'm sure." I retort. "But you're still staying here til tonight." Then, from within his helmet, comes a female voice announcing some crime being committed close by. I shake my head.
"Don't you even think about it." I warn, glaring at him. He gives me that scowl that tells me he's pissed. "Don't even give me that. You need to stay right where you are or I will sedate you!" I add, crossing my arms.
"It's my responsibility as a Judge to stop crime, no matter what condition I'm in." He retorts. I scowl at him.
"Even Judges need recovery time. Tell that lady you won't be responding to any calls for the next seven hours, at least." I order. He merely stands up so fast, I couldn't react fast enough.
"No, citizen." Is all he says, grabbing his leather jacket. I huff.
"My name is Rowena." I snap testily.
"Rowena, then." He amends, "I cannot remain here. I have to go." I exhale in frustration. To hold him here would probably cause legal issues and may even land me in an Iso-Cube. So, I had no choice but to let him get beat up again.
"...Fine. Go get beat up. You'll be back and I'll be here to patch you up again." I growl through gritted teeth, then see his badge as he pulls his chestplate on.
Dredd.
As in, the now quite famous Judge Dredd that formed half the duo of Judges responsible for the Peach Trees takedown not a month ago.
Crap. I'd essentially kidnapped and snapped at the most famous Judge in the Hall. How on Earth had I missed that badge?!
He nods politely at me and leaves, just like that. I shake my head in slightly amused shock.
Judges were a highly unusual breed, but I guess you'd have to be to dish out the strict, oftentimes harsh, law's punishments on unfortunate lawbreakers like robots all day.
=#=#=#=#=
It took only til the next night for him to be back, knocking on my window letting out onto the fire escape that always looked ready to fall. I tell myself it's only concern he'd break the fire escape and plummet to the concrete below that makes me open the window.
But I'm lying; truth is, I'd been wondering if he'd ever want to come back, and daring to hope that maybe he would. So I crack a smirk, open the window, and help him in.
"Told you you'd be back." I tease. He grunts.
"You were nearer than any hospital in the vicinity." He replies smoothly, but with a worrying undercurrent of pain. I roll my eyes and sit him on the couch, unbuckling the armor.
"Uh-huh." I mumble, heaving the armor off and peeling back the jacket. "Alright. Well, you've managed to not only re-break the ribs- -much worse this time, mind you- -but also get yourself a nasty stab wound." I grumble. "Great." I then reach for the cauterizing cream. "This'll hurt. Just so you- -"
"I am aware." He grumbles. I nod.
"Alright. Here goes." And I squeeze a pea-sized glob of cream into the wound. Dredd hisses softly, tensing, but doesn't strike out at me or react in any other way. I then grab a stapler and criss-cross staples over the wounds. That done, I wrap it in gauze and lean back to admire my handiwork. Nodding in satisfaction, I notice an odd lump in Dredd's shoulder. I sigh. Dislocated, if not broken "And now for that shoulder." I automatically just reach over and pop it back in, forgetting all about warning him. Again, he hisses, but doesn't do anything else. "You know, I think you're the easiest patient to treat." I muse, checking him over for other injuries. "Recovery, you're a pain in my butt, but treatment's a snap with you."
"I do not need time to- -" He cuts himself off with a hiss as he tries to sit up. I gently push him back down, groaning.
"Here we go again. Look, if you do not let yourself recover properly, you're gonna die. You'll reopen that wound and bleed out." I point out severely, glaring at him. He smirks.
"I wouldn't, but I appreciate the concern, Rowena Garner." I pale a little.
"...I never told you my last name." He smirks.
"I needed to know your address, in case I needed...assistance again."
"That's slightly creepy." I mumble, crossing my arms, then sighing with a smirk. And what just what I was hoping for. "I'm gonna give you morphine and sedative. That'll give you a good few hours of rest you really need to heal." I said firmly. Dredd's infamous frown makes a reappearance. "Don't even give me that frown. You need to take care of yourself, Dredd." I retort, aggravated beyond belief with my unofficial patient as I sat down in the armchair I'd used last time he came over to get treated. Dredd's slightly annoyed frown became something more curious, more intrigued...something contemplative. Finally, he speaks.
"Joseph." I tilt my head.
"Joseph? What's that supposed to mean?" He smirks.
"My first name." I nod.
"Nice to meet you, Joseph." The smirk becomes a smile and I discover it's contagious...and quite cute on him. "You know, a smile looks good on you. You should try it on more often." I mumble off-handedly, blushing when my words catch up with my brain and Joseph's smile falters in confusion. "I mean- -uh…" He waves my stuttering to a halt and the smile is back full force.
"It's alright, Rowena." He replies. Then, against all odds, he reaches up to unclip his helmet.
"Y-you don't have to…" I mutter half-heartedly, blushing scarlet for some reason. Perhaps simply because I could tell this was a big deal to him. And as such, it meant probably more than I realize that he was revealing himself like this.
Then he spoke. Just three words, but they were enough to bring me to my metaphorical knees.
"I want to." I don't know why, but those words rang over and over in my head. I couldn't get enough of it. "You've been so...different from the other doctors, warm and compassionate, but also intriguing and playful." He said and the chin strap came undone. The helmet was gripped in his strong hands and it slid off to reveal chocolate brown eyes and a defined, if not slightly sweaty, forehead. Those eyes were warm and playful, coupled with the smile I'd already grown (probably) overfond of.
Dear God, I'm screwed.
=#=#=#=#=
No really, I am screwed!
It happened this morning. The one after Dredd had taken off his helmet. I'd been going to the store, in fact on my way home, when I was stopped by two Judges.
"Can I help you two?" I ask politely. They nod.
"Are you affiliated with Judge Dredd?" I hide my growing worry with a shiver in the autumn air, pulling my coat tighter about myself, the groceries clinking together noisily. There was something off about this whole scenario, but I can't tell exactly what...
"I know him as well as anyone in Mega-City 1." I lie. "Why?"
"He's gone MIA." One reports. "We are assigned to his retrieval." I nod.
"Okay. Well, I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I don't know where he is." They frown in a manner not unlike Dredd's.
"We tracked his last known location to this street." They tell me.
"If I see him, I'll let you know." I tell them and turn to leave.
"His last location happens to be your apartment, citizen." One growls, suddenly directly behind me. "Which means you're now accused of disrupting a Judge's investigation. That's three months in an Iso-Cube, if the courts are lenient. Which they won't be." I pale, tensing. The bags slip from my fingers before I clench my fingers into fists. This was so going to end badly. But I had to try.
"Listen, I think you've- -" The slap takes my by surprise and I go reeling back a few steps. By the time I might have reacted, the sedative needle was already in my neck.
My uncle would have my head if he were here.