FUTURE_6789_5



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    “The doctor should be back soon to splint your wrist,” Jace said quietly as he made notes in the chart on the clipboard beside Cregan’s bed.

    “Then I think I’ll be needing your belt back,” Cregan said, something sly in his tone.

    Jace stifled a laugh, eyes focusing on the chart in his hands, refusing to make eye contact, lest he say something stupid. Wordlessly, he set the clipboard down and undid his belt once more, folding it in half and pressing it into Cregan’s good (less bad) hand.

     

    or, Cregan is an injured american solider in WWII, and Jace is his battlefield nurse.

    written for Jacegan week, days five and six: historical & whump

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    20 Oct 2024