AN: 'Fear of expressing opinions/receiving praise'. I was looking for 'fear of being thanked' but Google came up blank, so this is the closest I could come. I was amused. I needed amusement. TAKE IT.
A few of these stories have a 'recommended listening', so at the end, I will compile them into an 8tracks playlist-the link will be on my profile, so stay (heh) tuned!
McStaken-Eh, he's already got it in for me, go big or go home! And yeah...Jason didn't start it, but he's certainly added to it in an attempt to 'scare 'em straight' now and then. Bruce despairs because where did he go so wrong?
Forbidden Moons-I am an opportunist, my dear. There comes a time that the risk outweighs the rewards, and witnesses-especially drunk, rowdy witnesses-may well call down the Batman, and I simply do not appreciate the broken bones that will follow.
Nurse Collins hates the night shift.
She didn't used to, you know. Gotham being Gotham, the night shift was busy, but not…not this way. This is Batman's fault. He came and he dragged all these masked crazies out of whatever dark corners they were hiding in, and now…now.
Now, for instance, Crane's dragged Richardson in for a gunshot wound. It depends on which one of them you ask as to how serious it is, but either way, the bullet had to be removed, so.
They're leaving in a few minutes, partly because they can and partly because nobody's stupid enough to suggest an overnight even if they couldn't. She's drawn the short straw of going in there for a last-minute chat, and she…
She doesn't wanna. Last time they were here, Crane was in bad shape and the doctor on duty retired. Said something about too much pressure.
"-worry too much, really."
"I worry exactly the right amount. There comes a point that I'm not willing to risk nicking something trying to get a bullet out."
"For heaven's sake-"
Time to get this over with.
She knocks on the door and opens it a second later, prepared to duck 'n run if they decide they're not done arguing.
"Nurse…" Crane's eyes find her name tag. "Collins. What do you want?"
"Um." Be calm. Be calm. "I have painkillers and recovery instructions…for, um…if you want them…"
"Blink, love, you're scaring her." Crane does not blink. Maybe he can't. Richardson sighs and holds out her hand. "Thank you for this. And for putting up with him."
That knocks him right out of his 'scary graveyard statue' mode-gets a sputter and an indignant, "Who spent our last stay playing with syringes?"
"I was fixing your glove, which you never do."
"Mm-hm." Nurse Collins wants to run far, far away before they remember that they kill people and take her out to keep her from ruining their image or something. "The fact that you only worked on it in front of Doctor…I don't remember his name, actually…is a coincidence, of course."
"I was trying to stay out of his way!"
"Naturally." Crane flicks his attention back to her and she wants to disappear. "Thank you, Nurse, for ensuring this stay has not lasted longer than necessary."
She tries to smile. It's in the training, smile at the patients, up their moods.
She just.
She can't.
She shoves the paper and pill bottle at them and scurries out with what she means to be a, "I've got other patients, come back if you have complications!" but what probably comes out as incomprehensible gibberish.
What? The last thing she wants or needs is them requesting her next time they come in.
THE END