Yo.

I don't even know if this counts as shipping but I liked writing it so yeah. This is hesitantly the Death /Reader in the same -ish universe. Just a 'different' protag.

Because that makes sense, Syb.

Whatev's.

I hope you all like it too, and welcome to the New Year! ! May it be ten times as amazing as last year.

Warning for medical talk I guess? ? don't take my word for anything tho I'm hardly a doctor. Everything here is just knowledge from past visits tbh. Chronic pain actually makes you pretty hospital savvy.


"Lemme guess, 'you should see the other guy'?" You ask dryly, upon finding a familiar face in your emergency room. Surprisingly, neither of his siblings are with him this time.

War gives you a world class smirk and simply shrugs. "My X-rays?" He asks curiously.

"We've got a while yet." You respond flippantly, checking his vitals before looking his hand over. It's swollen around the third and forth finger, meaning he got sloppy with a punch. Damn kids nowadays. "I'd say its just a fracture though."

"Hm." He sort of replies, his face remaining stoic even when you press the injury.

"One to ten?" You sigh.

He appears to honestly consider it. "...Four or five."

You nod. "Well, that's good. You still want a pain killer or...?"

"It'd be nice." He says, eyes flickering towards the tv. "You upgraded since I was last here."

You blink, leaning forward on your toes to relieve the stress. Now you're just socializing, really, so there's no need to maintain your no nonsense work stance. "Was it really that long ago? We got new equipment almost three months ago now."

"Apparently." He answers vaguely.

You take that as a goodbye, but stop in the doorway. "I forgot to ask, do you have a ride back? I can't drug you up and expect you to drive home. Fury or Strife available?"

He seems torn for a second, lips pulling into a grimace. "They have an extra credit thing. I suppose I can call Death."

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, "Should I be alarmed or is that another sibling?"

He cracks a smile. "My eldest brother."

"Hm." You nod, and without another word, head over to the next on your list, a child with an allergy to peanuts. They came in before your shift started, but the kid is now sleeping sounding while their mother watches 'Say Yes to the Dress' intently.

You ask her if she'd like some crackers and pop or to visit the cafeteria (it wouldn't do any good to have her checked in for low blood sugar after all) and she doesn't agree until you promise to stay with the kid while she's gone.

By the time she returns you know your other patients (except War) will be irritable, but her relieved smile is enough to win you over. "You'll be home in no time." You assure her.

There's another (just a run of the mill asthma attack, easy to treat if not a little nerve wracking for the family) before you reach War's opponent, and wow.

You weren't kidding when you said the other guy is even worse. His nose is undoubtably broken, and his jaw by the look of it. You don't need to ask to know he needs pain meds, but you do anyway.

"What's your pain level, from one to ten?" You ask gently, tilting his face so you can see his nose better. It's not so bad that you'll have to call in a specialist, but you will have to set it after he's numb.

"Nine or something, I don't fuckin know. Shouldn't you know?" He sneers, and you make a mental note to thank War for kicking his ass.

You continue the rest of the examination as icily as possible, bordering on robotic with your sterility. You won't risk getting a bad rep because some kid is annoyed he didn't win a fight he probably started. War isn't really the type to start fights after all. Strife, on the other hand...

You also make him take his medication with plain (and pretty gross tasting, honestly) water, while you grab War his preferred pop out of the patients' mini fridge. Caffeine free, of course.

You're almost ready to head back to War when a nurse alerts you to his X-rays being back. Sure enough, they're just cracks, and only in the pinky. It is very close to breaking territory though, so he'll have to be careful in the future.

"Am I allowed to thank you for breaking his nose?" You say as you enter the room, not noticing the new arrival until he speaks.

"As a lawyer, I wouldn't advise it." The newcomer chuckles.

You nearly drop the medication, eyes going wide. Next to War in one of the stiff plastic chairs, is a dark haired man, and although you don't see much of a resemblance between him and War, something in the way he holds himself is very familiar.

He's also extremely attractive, which is... Not appropriate for a doctor to be thinking, dammit. "You must be Death."

"Yes. And you are...?" He raises an eyebrow.

"War's drug dealer." You answer cheerfully, handing the fighter in question a paper cup and the pop. "Don't tell the other one I let you have pop."

"You gave him that horrid water." War smiles, and your heart just about melts.

Death seems surprised by this when you turn to him again, eyes locked on War.

"Seriously though, I'm usually the physician to treat War. And occasionally Strife, but he doesn't seem to like hospitals." You give him your name too, and hold your hand out.

His hand dwarfs yours when he shakes it, nodding. "It is a pleasure."

"Well..." You give Death one last look before returning to your patient. "I'm gonna hafta splint that pinky of yours, kid. Sloppy hit." You tut, moving over to the supply cabinet. Thankfully this doesn't need anything especially pricey, because then you'd have to go through the effort of typing the code into the locked cabinet and all that nonsense.

He snorts, and Death laughs. "What'd his challenger look like?"

"Broken nose and jaw, probably. He was in a horrible mood too, which I don't appreciate." You hmph, grabbing the doctor's spinny chair (its a stool, actually. Don't let the word 'chair' deceive you) and settling next to War. "Hand."

"What'd he say?" War's voice drops, now practically a growl.

You wait until he gives you his hand before answering, "Nothing important. And nothing I'd repeat, honestly. I don't use anything worse than 'damn.'"

War hisses as you begin repositioning his finger, but you're almost sure that's because of anger rather than pain. He has a startlingly high tolerance. "War." You say gently, flashing him a smile. "Seriously, it's fine. He's a patient now."

"Because that makes it okay." Death interrupts, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It does. I'm obligated to at least treat him civilly." You huff. "Although I will admit I am totally biased when it comes to your younger siblings. They visit much more than I'd like."

War has the decency to look sheepish, although such an expression looks odd on him. You finish tapping his hand up with a smile. "I'll have your discharge papers soon then, plus a scrip' for home, and somebody will come in to make sure your insurance is in order shortly. You can stay a while longer if you want to, or if the pains bad enough and you want some stronger medicine, but other than that..."

"I know." He nods, scowling down at his hand.

"And it was nice meeting you, Death." You wave lightly. "Although hopefully we don't see each other again. War."

"I can assure you, I will be back." He answers immediately, not even taking time to think it over.

"Great." You sigh.

It isn't until near the end of your shift that one of the nurses pulls you aside and says, "This is gonna sound weird but..." He begins, gauging your reaction. Seeing none, he continues, "I think War's brother is digging on you."

It takes you a moment to understand, and all you can manage to respond is, "What?" You don't remember Josh being one of those coworkers.

"He was telling War he'd like to be the one he calls from now on when I started the insurance fill out and then he says," Josh's voice drop into a poor impression of Death, "'That doctor seemed... interesting.'"

"Interesting." You repeat blandly. "So you think he wants to take me out because he said I'm interesting?

He rolls his eyes, "You make it sound so boring. It was the way he said it! And War, he looked awfully surprised too."

"Well, damn, kid, I'm sold." Maybe your sarcasm is uncalled for, but he's being ridiculous.


Okay, maybe Josh's assumption wasn't... Totally ridiculous. You're forced to admit over the next few months, throughout which War ends up in your ER multiple times. Two of which aren't even fight related, surprisingly enough. Visit after visit, your conversations with his eldest brother become less about War and more... Borderline flirtatious. Which is really weird because its apparent neither of you know how to flirt.

You always hope that War stays away though, because let's face it: the ER is not really the place you want your friends to end up. Although you will admit you only get to see them here. Strife texts you sometimes (and you're sure the others likewise have your number), but you've never actually hung out with them.

Today, War is in for head pains, which is rather worrying. Strife isn't sprawled across the chairs like he usually would be when you enter, instead anxiously tapping his knee and glancing up at every sound. War just looks annoyed, but the way he's clutching the railing on the bed tells you he's in pain.

"Hey." Strife says as soon as you enter, "So, Ruin threw him yesterday and we didn't really think anything and he tried to sleep it off and-"

"It's gotten worse." War interrupts, eying Strife irritably. His brother appears too anxious to be offended. "Like an eight."

"So, fatigue, pain... nausea?" You ask, grabbing your flashlight.

He makes a face. "Yes."

You do the usual head trauma run through, throughout which is becomes very apparent he's hit himself pretty good. "It's probably a concussion," You tell him, and Strife sharply inhales. "It's not that big a deal, as long as there's no repeats. Right now, I want request a CT and set up an IV?" You leave the IV up to War, who simply nods. "Great. I'll be right back."

You nearly run into Fury on your way out, who looks just as distraught as Strife did. "He's going to be fine." You tell her immediately, smiling.

"I- just called Death, he'll be here after court adjourns." She says, her words spaced awkwardly and so un-Fury-like it makes your chest squeeze. You've long since passed the line of normal doctor-patient concern, honestly.

"Great. Just keep an eye on War while I'm gone and call a nurse if anything gets worse." You tell her.

She stares at you for a moment, before slowly nodding, "Of course." Having a job seems to do the trick to get cool and collected Fury back, her shoulders straightening dutifully as she brushes past you to watch her little brother.

You're thankful it's been a very slow day as you scurry to set up a CT and grab an IV set up. Normally you'd just ask a nurse to do it, but there's only one other patient at the moment, and she's just waiting for the meds to kick in, so you take it upon yourself.

Strife is still tap-tap-tapping and Fury is pacing when you get back, and War looks even more annoyed with his family.

He does crack a smile when you ask Fury to sit down though, and offers his arm without protest. You find the vein very easily, and he only flinches a tiny bit when you stick him. There's very little blood, thankfully (Strife might just renounce your friendship if you messed up sticking a needle into a major vein).

"No curls while the IV is in." You joke as you carefully add the anti nausea medicine in with the saline.

He snorts. "Yes. That's what I'm here for, the gym."

"I knew it." You respond cheerfully. "I can't give you any blood thinners right now, because I don't know if there's bleeding, but techs'll be here pretty quick and if it's all good I'll give you some pain relievers."

He just sighs, while Fury asks, "Wouldn't the IV interfere with a CT?"

"It's all plastic, so no. Thank goodness you're already in one of our snazzy gowns." You flash War a smile and he scowls.

"I figured you would ask anyway." He huffs.

You give him a thumbs up and head for the door, "I'll be back to check up in a few. You guys can watch TV or something if you'd like, but not for too long. The wifi code is on the fridge if you forgot."

Strife yells back that of course they didn't forget, it's wifi and you roll your eyes. Strife, you're in a fricken hospital, stop yelling.

The only other patient is browsing Pinterest when you return (which you know because she made a point of showing you a very cute picture of cupcakes made to look like frogs) and informs you her roommate will be arriving shortly to take her home.

You stop in the break room to ask one of the nurses to get the discharge papers for her, and purposely keep your gaze away from the mason jars on the counter, one with decorated with a crude rendition of a scythe and the other with X's covering it. For ending up with Death and against, respectively. Apparently one of your coworkers thinks the grim reaper is a fitting comparison to someone named Death, hence the scythe.

You've made it abundantly clear a betting pool on your love life is completely out of line, but none of them heed your threats.

You end up glancing at them anyway, only mildly surprised to see the pro-dating container is winning by a sliver. Although you have no way of knowing if all of those are ones.

You roll your eyes and continue on your way. Time to do all the paper work (well, technically computer work) for War. It's pretty simple, but you do end up loitering for a while, until the notice comes through that the there's no bleeding and that you can go ahead and give him some pain relievers.

Strife and Fury are gone when you return, but Death has taken over monitoring War and trying to find a good channel (good luck).

You raise an eyebrow, "And here I was looking forward to seeing all four of you together."

War's lip twitches, and Death just snorts. "They couldn't agree on a restaurant so they both left to get dinner." Well... You have to admit that does sound like the two of them. They don't agree on much of anything.

"Hm," You say lightly, fluttering over to War's IV line. "I've got your pain relievers, kid. You'll feel it in a few minutes."

War clenches his fist as the medicine enters his bloodstream and you swat him. "Stop that."

"It's prickly." He responds.

You purse your lips. "Prickly, huh. Never heard that one before." He raises an eyebrow and you explain, "Lots of patients say it feels weird or that they can taste it on the back of their throat. Speaking of which, do you need another blanket? I know the drip isn't real pleasant."

Saline is generally kept at room temperature, which in a hospital especially, is rather chilly compared to a regular old human.

War glances over at Death as if he's embarrassed before saying, "Yes."

You smile comfortingly, "Great."

"Do you get anything good on this?" Death asks, obviously referring to the TV. "Aside from housewife dramas, I mean."

Your lips quirk. "Your best bet is hooking up your phone and watching Netflix, honestly. There's cords in one of the drawers if you're old school." You shrug, yanking a pile of blankets out of the cabinet. You set the extras on the counter and theatrically throw the other over War. He immediately whaps your hands away when you try to tuck him in, but he's laughing and that was your plan.

Death is watching the two of you when you glance up, smirking in amusement.

"Well, then," You start, yanking your stool over to the edge of the bed. "I have to ask if you guys plan on staying the night or if I have to debrief your siblings on proper concussion treatment. If you stay you'll get treatment right away if anything goes wrong, but I know hospitals ain't the comfiest and some patients do better when they're home."

The two of them exchange loaded glances, both of them obviously weighing the pros and cons. You glance away out of respect for their privacy, looking at the saline drip curiously. You'll have to get a new one soon, just to make sure he remains hydrated.

Which is also something you would normally leave up to a nurse, but... It's War. He's like a little brother to you at this point. Despite the fact he can probably bench press you. And it's sort of fitting, considering the horrible crush you have on his brother.

Dammit.

"We will give you answer once the others arrive." Death finally says, rising an eyebrow when you flinch.

"Sorry." You shrug, looking at the kid in question. "How's the medication treating you?"

"Better." He responds shortly, giving you the barest hint of a smile. You pout irriatably and he elaborates, "A two, maybe."

Now smiling, you make to stand, "That is much better. I'll check back in a few then, okay?"

"Have you eaten dinner?" Death interrupts.

You blink. "W- no? I've only got a little while left on this shift anyway." What kind of question is that?

He doesn't respond, simply scrutinizing you. Blushing in embarrassment, you make a hasty retreat. Checking in with the registration (still no new patients, unfortunately), you busy yourself chatting with your coworkers.

One of whom just recently became a mom. You're pretty sure she's got nearly three hundred pictures, all slightly different but similar enough to make feigning interest harder and harder as time passes. He just looks like a baby. There's really not much... Definition is newborns. They all look angry potatoes.

This is why you're not a midwife.

You're granted a brief reprieve when Fury returns, and her smug grin upon learning she beat Strife. "I got breakfast for dinner."

"That's not healthy!" You respond immediately, shaking your head in mock disapproval.

Fury only laughs it off, pausing to inform you she got more than enough for the four of them before disappearing around the corner.

You're left frowning in confusion, and a quick glance to your nurses confirms they're also a little flummoxed. "Did she just invite me to eat with them?" You ask slowly.

"I believe so." One of them smiles brightly, moving to give your a high five that you barely have time to lift your hand for.

"What time is it? When do you get off anyway?" Another cheers.

"Eight, and it's seven forty three."

"You could totally join them, doc."

"Ohhhh, is it too late to change my bet?"

They continue the conversation without any work on your part, leaving you to mentally go through the pros and cons of denying Fury's request or joining in their family time.

Thankfully they both fall quiet when Strife returns, and while he looks mildly annoyed that Fury arrived first, he happily informs you that the classic burgers and fries is obviously the better choice.

You smile despite yourself, neither confirming nor denying it.

As your coworkers start talking again you glance at the clock and cheer, Only ten more minutes!

It seems those minutes drag on and on, and you're all too happy to punch out and head for the break room when your replacement arrives. You yank on your casual clothes without delay (multiple sets of scrubs are completely necessary in the ER and everyone has their own locker), only to hesitate in front of War's room.

You could just walk away. You could totally just leave, and make yourself some food in the privacy of your own home and relax.

But you don't really want to.

Steeling your nerves, you knock before opening the door. "Hey." You greet, waving halfheartedly as all four of them glance up at you. "So... I heard we got waffles."

There's a beat of silence before Fury laughs and says, "I told you."

"Daaamn." Strife whistles, elaborating when you raise an eyebrow, "I don't think I've ever seen you without your doctor clothes."

"Oh." You can only laugh as you grab your spinny chair and sit down next to Death and Strife. They're using the foot of War's bed as a table, and he's got his legs crossed to accommodate, while Fury perches on the very edge of the bed next to him and his brothers claim the two chairs.

Strife passes you a paper napkin full of French fries as soon as your settle down, and you grin. "Thanks."

"No prob." He shrugs.

"Are you not working then?" Death asks. There's... Something behind that question that makes your heart jump, but you brush it off after a moment. Now, with his entire family surrounding you, is not the time to be entertaining romantic thoughts.

"Yup. Nice timing, kid." You send War a smile, and he rolls his eyes. "That's why I'm all dressed! Like, you would not believe how cold scrubs are compared to regular clothes. They're just really thin, I guess." You continue, munching on your fries.

"We don't have to worry about that, thankfully." Fury hums.

"Well, yeah. You and Strife are juniors, right?" You respond.

"Yes." She confirms, moving to grab another pancake. Despite her poise and properness, you notice she eats with her hands, pulling the pancake into bite sized pieces and dipping them in syrup.

It's cute, honestly.

"I'm a first year. Same college." War adds.

You smile at him before turning to Death, "And you're a lawyer, right?"

"Indeed. I was in court when Fury called, actually." He says, motioning to his suit. "At least one of us had time to change."

Nudging him with your elbow, you say, "I'm sure we have extra hospital gowns."

You try to keep a straight face, but Death's positively scandalized expression has you in a fit of giggles. The others aren't in much better shape either, and eventually Death cracks a smile.

Yeah. You could totally get used to this.

The rest of your dinner is likewise filled with snark and laughter, only interrupted by a nurse coming to check on War and fill out the discharge papers (apparently they decided home is the best option).

You pretend you don't notice the radiant smile she's sending you as she types everything up, but when Death raises an eyebrow you know you've done a horrible job. "What?" He asks quietly.

"Hell if I know." You lie right through you teeth, looking anywhere but your crush.

Death makes a disbelieving noise, but thankfully doesn't press and you help Fury grab all the napkins and plasticware while War gets his IV taken out. Strife is too busy silently intimidating the nurse to help out, it seems. You've never seen that particular coworker so careful though, and don't even try to cover your surprise.

Huh.

War shoos everyone out so he can change, and you take it upon yourself to throw the fast food bags away in the break room trash. Fury follows you anyway, of course, and you catch her eyeing the mason jars curiously.

"Betting pool." You explain.

"What kind?" She responds, obviously referring to the scythe decorating one.

It occurs to you maybe an omen of death ain't the best thing to have in a hospital.

Oops.

You hesitate, "...Romantic endeavors of a certain coworker? I don't participate."

She falls silent, apparently satisfied with that and the two of you rejoin her family.

Yon don't think much of following them out to the parking lot, right up until Death clamps a hand on your shoulder. "Where are you going?" He asks amusedly.

"My... car?" You say, glancing over your shoulder at him in confusion. The others don't seem to think much of this exchange, continuing to bicker about who gets to drive. Fury and Strife came in the same car, it seems. One of them had to borrow Death's to get their dinner.

Death's smirk widens. "Aren't you coming? We need a doctor, after all. War is in no shape to be left alone."

You're not really sure if he's being sincere at this point, but you have to admit he's got a fair point. You are the best equipped to help, if something goes wrong.

You also have to admit you're rationalizing Death asking you to come home with him.

"Are you gonna drive me back here tomorrow then?" You finally ask, unable to keep from smiling.

"Of course. Wouldn't want you late to work." He says, releasing your shoulder.

"Because I'm such a professional." You answer, your own sarcasm biting.

War seems hardly surprised when you slide into the passenger seat, only giving you a small smile when you twist around to look at him while Death starts the car. "Still pain free?" You ask.

He snorts. "Are you here for my brother or me?"

"All of the above. But not in the same sense." You answer immediately, making the both of them laugh.

The drive is surprisingly short (in your opinion, anyway. The hospital is on the outer edge of town), and the house that greets you is... Nice. Homey, even, despite the stark contrast between your lofty downtown apartment and the long, sprawling gravel drive that leads to a sizable house surrounded by pasture.

"Woah." You say, leaning close to the window.

"What?" War grumbles.

"I'm not used to so much room." You answer truthfully. "But you've got horses, right? Makes sense." You glance back at one of the fields while Death parks, but there's no one out at the moment. That you can see, at least.

"Where do you live?" He asks curiously.

"Downtown. Most of the older shops have upper floors that have been converted into apartments. I'm right above a jewelry and imports place. It perpetually smells like incense and honestly, I think my neighbor uses it to get away with smoking pot." You respond as you get out and stretch.

"And who says they aren't evolving?" Death hmphs. You figure he's got a lot of experience with druggies, being a lawyer and all.

"So what's..." You stop, watching a huge crow swoop down on Death. He, for one, doesn't seem surprised as the creature claims his shoulder, only glancing at it with mild surprise.

"Hello, Dust." He greets.

"You have a bird." You state, already moving closer.

"Arguably." Death watches you closely as you hold your hand out for the bird, but doesn't try to stop you.

It only nudges your fingers when you get close, making a weird hissing noise that confirms its crow-ness. It doesn't quiet down until you begin petting it, and you laugh. "What a cutie."

"He's a freeloader." Death scoffs, although his smile says otherwise.

"You're going to freeze if you stay out here." Fury interrupts, tapping your shoulder as she passes. You didn't even notice their arrival.

"Am I going to freeze to death?" You respond, following her inside.

Fury tries to smother her laughter with her hand, while Strife turns right around and says, "Get out of my house."

"I don't think I will." You snicker. Strife only likes puns when he makes them. Any time else and they're the bane of his existence.

An arm snakes around your waist as you try to figure out where to leave your shoes, and Death says, "I see why you're such great friends."

You can only smile.