This chapter discusses SA, trauma, PTSD, abuse, and attempted murder. Please skip this chapter if any of those topics may trigger you. Your mental health is more important than some silly story!

Italics = flashback

regular text = current day.

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2003 - a look into your past.

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"It all started when I was in surgical residency."

-

You sighed, flopping down on the locker room bench. Another busy day as a trauma surgeon resident. This day was fucking getting to you, and yet you still had 10 hours left to your shift. Since you were freshly graduated, many of your co-workers gave you the worst tasks. Clean up duty for an elderly patient, checking the blood pressure of a man who chopped his finger off - just little things. You were itching for a position in an actual surgical operation.

You stretch, pulling out a granola bar. You'll just have to be patient.

"That chocolate chip? Or S'mores?"

You turn to the sound of the voice. It was a man, tall and skinny. He has dark brown hair, and heavy bags under his eyes. You assumed it was from work, considering he was wearing the same scrubs as you.

"It's uh.. peanut butter actually."

He smiles. "Oh, so the shittiest flavor. Nice." You have little time to respond as he sticks his hand out to you. "I'm Matt." He says, a sweet expression crossing his face.

You giggle, grabbing his hand and shaking it. "(Y/N)."

Matt's eyes light up as he lets go of your hand. "Oh! You're that gifted kid right? The one who graduated early?"

Gifted? You would hardly call yourself that. "I mean... I guess???" You eye the various tattoos on his arms. Who the fuck is spreading rumors about you?

Matt laughs. "Hey, no need to be shy. You've got talent. I mean, I graduated around the same time as you, but we're a few years apart I think."

You pale. "Where are you getting all this information?"

"Oh you know. Word spreads quickly. Everyone knows that Carter is giving you the worst jobs."

You frown. Carter is your higher up - and he fucking hates you for some reason. He literally made you clean up shit off the floor DURING your lunch. It's safe to say he doesn't want to deal with you. You want to respond, but yours and Matt's pagers go off.

Matt stands up, stretching. "Duty calls. Come on gifted kid, lets see what you can do."

You quickly finish your granola bar, running after him. Can he not call you that?

You both run down the hall to the emergency room. Turning a corner, you see the issue. It's chaos as a woman is wheeled in on a gurney, unaware of her injuries.

Carter looks at you and Matt as you run alongside the gurney. "She was in a pretty nasty car accident. Just came in a minute ago. Her blood pressure is 200/180."

You take a look at the woman as she's lifted onto a table. Both her legs are absolutely shredded. They're definitely not salvageable. She's also bleeding profusely from a glass shard stuck in her forehead. Carter is continuing to spout information, and both you and Matt put torniquets on what's rest of her legs.

Carter looks at her, and the 6 or 7 doctors in the room. "She needs surgery. we need to cut the legs off before decomposition sets in and check for internal bleeding." He looks at you and Matt. "(Y/L/N), Kingsman, you're with me. Where's the next available room?"

You're silent as you check her vitals. The nurse speaks up. "Sir, room 208 is available."

"Great. Get it prepped for me and put her under. We need to act fast."

Matt looks at you with an excited look on his face as you both wheel the poor woman over to the operating room. He smiles. "This is it! Your first real surgery. Are you excited?"

You open your mouth to answer, but you're swiftly cut off by Carter. "Kingsman! Now's not the time! Focus or you're out of the surgery."

"Yes sir." Matt looks at you again, sly smile on his face. Okay... you're a little excited too.

You watch as the patient is wheeled away to the operating room. You need to prep for surgery. You and Matt make your way to the washing station, washing your hands and disinfecting basically everything. Carter is doing the same. 

He looks at you from the sink. "Don't fuck this up (Y/L/N). Or I'll have you on shit duty for the next two weeks." 

You grimace. Yeah... you better not fuck this up. Carter walks into the operating room, leaving just you and Matt to continue your disinfecting ritual. Matt looks at you with a sympathetic look. 

"Hey don't fret. This is my second big surgery, and if I fuck up we can both be put on shit duty together." Matt says, smiling. 

You look an him incredulously. "Yeah I don't think that would make the situation any better." 

Matt flaps his hands to get the water off. "Well, it's now or never. Let's cut this lady's legs off, shall we?" 

You just laugh at the way he phrased it. This guy is funny. You smile, following him into the operating room. 

-

5 1/2 hours later

-

"Holy shit, we crushed that!" Matt says, pumping his fist in the air. 

You walk beside him, your body tired but your mind still excited. It took a little longer than you thought, considering she had some internal bleeding in her stomach. But you and Matt patched her legs up nice and pretty. What was left of them anyway. 

You smile. "Oh man, Carter is gonna be so mad that we showed him up." You pull off your operating cap and sit down. "I'm just glad I won't have to clean shit off the floor for the next two weeks." 

Matt laughs, looking at your exhausted form. "I didn't think you'd fail anyway. You graduated younger than anyone else for a reason." 

You look at him. "Yeah but, everyone just hates me because of it." 

Matt sits down at the opposite side of the table. "I mean, yeah. Granted, I didn't think you were all that. But you're pretty cool, (Y/N)." 

You blush at the compliment. "Oh wow... I think you're pretty cool too." 

---

"After that, we became close friends." You say to Bob and sip your wine. "I think that we both really connected with each other in a way I can't explain. It was like... he was the peanut-butter to my jelly." 

Bob's fists tighten at that, but he continues to listen to you speak. 

"After that surgery, we managed to get partnered in a lot of future operations together - big or small. He was a trauma surgeon just like me, so we basically did almost every task together. We even started hanging out after work too." 

You sigh. "After almost a year of being friends, he confessed to me." 

---

It's 12 am. You and Matt are at a local bar, spending your Friday together. You quietly sip your beer, looking around the place. It was a cute little spot, fairly close to the hospital. You and Matt usually came here for drinks after particularly long shifts. 

Matt looks at you, eyes half lidded. "Hey. How do you feel about dating?" 

You're a little bewildered. "Dating? What brought this up?" 

Matt shrugs, stirring his drink. "Eh. I uh... there's something I need to tell you, (Y/N)." You look at him as he takes a swig of his drink - perhaps he needs the liquid courage right now. He leans close to you, and whispers, "I like you, (Y/N)."

You blink. "Oh. I like you too Matt." 

He can tell that you don't understand. "No, I mean I LIKE you."

That's why he asked that dating question. To be fair, you did like him as well. His company was nice, and he was always a good shoulder to lean on at work or at home. Matt notices your lack of response, and he fidgets nervously. "I mean, you don't have to- uh if you- I mean-" 

You cut him off with a peck on his cheek. "I like you too." 

You pull back, watching him cup his cheek, his face red as a tomato. "Hah!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug. "This is great!" 

- 

"We began to officially date soon after." You sip your drink. "But there was something I had told him before we made it official. I told him... that I wasn't really into doing anything... sexual. With him. Or anyone." You say quietly, a little ashamed. 

"He was really understanding at first. He respected my boundaries, and I respected him. But I think...that wasn't enough for him." You wring your hands together, a bit embarrassed to tell Bob all the details. But it was essential to the story. 

Bob is still looking at you intently. He can tell you're uncomfortable, but he listens as you continue to speak. 

"I...I didn't know why I didn't want to be sexual with him. I still don't know why. But, as we fell deeper into our relationship, he wanted more." 

-

You lean back on the couch, quietly reading. Matt is next to you, watching the TV. You both had just got done with another 12 hour shift. You were exhausted, but you didn't want to sleep just yet. Neither did Matt, so you both decided to hang out at his apartment. 

You're engrossed in your book as you feel Matt's hand on your thigh. This is fine, you don't mind this. 

Ever since you and Matt had decided to make it official 6 months ago, he had been subtly getting more and more sexual with you. Sometimes it will be an offhand comment, but other times its a touch that is just too much for you. Usually, you brush him off with a laugh or a witty comment. But it makes you sick to your stomach just thinking about what he might want to do with you next. 

Matt's hand slowly moves upwards. You side eye him. His face is red, and his eyes are lidded in lust. 

You gently grab his hand and move it downward. But slowly, he just brings it back up again. 

You sigh. "Matt. Please don't do this right now. I'm tired." 

He groans, inching closer to you. "But you always say you're tired." 

"It's because I am." 

He laughs dryly, and begins to lift up your shirt. "I think... I can fix that." 

Oh. In fear, you quickly grab your shirt and pull it back down. You stand up, flustered. "I said stop." 

He stands up as well. "Oh please, (Y/N). This is just what couples do. I know you said something about being, ""Asexual"" or whatever, but that's a lie. I can tell you want it." He says, venom dripping in his voice. 

This is going to get dangerous if you don't put a stop to things. You shake your head. "It's not a lie. I wouldn't lie about that." He steps closer to you, and you step back. "Matt please. If this keeps up... I think we might need to take a break." 

At that, Matt frowns in anger. "Oh really. You think you're too good to have sex with me. Is that it?"

You shake your head again. Now you're pinned up against the wall, Matt looming over you. "No. That's not it at all." 

"What is it then?"

"I already TOLD you." You were visibly upset and uncomfortable, but Matt continues to invade your space. "I'm being serious. If you want to keep acting like this, we're going to take a break."

At that, he puts his hands on the wall, effectively blocking you in. "Oh really. I know you don't mean it. You're probably lying about not wanting to have sex with me so you can fuck guys on the weekend-" 

You slap him. Hard.

You've never had to put your hands on anyone in violence before. But he just said something that really struck a cord within you. You can't take this anymore. He steps back from the wall, cupping his cheek in shock over the fact that you hit him. 

You walk over to the door, quickly slipping your shoes on and grabbing your keys. "I'm going home. Text me when you want to actually be understand and respectful. Otherwise, we're done." You slam the door, crying as you walk down the stairs from his apartment. 

-

You hold in your tears. " I don't know why he switched up. He was so understanding when I told him about my preferences."

Bob is watching you, seething with anger in silence. He wants to kill this guy. 

You sigh. "I think that maybe... he never really took what I said to heart. Maybe he thought that being sexual would bring us closer - maybe he thought it would "fix" me. But it just served to push me farther and farther away." 

"After that angry encounter, he hadn't shown up to work the next day. Or the day after that." You rub your forehead. "I didn't see him for two weeks. No texts, calls, emails, nothing. I started to worry about him. Maybe he had been hurt? Or killed?" 

You sigh. "But he was fine. Physically, at least."

-

It's near Christmastime, and you still hadn't heard from Matt. He hadn't shown up to work either. You felt bad after what had transpired a few weeks ago. Maybe you shouldn't have slapped him. but that was really the only way to get him to listen.  

After another long ass shift, you struggle with finding the right key to unlock your door. Your eyes are watery from the sheer amount of times you've yawned in the past few minutes. Finally, you find the key to your apartment. You stick it in the lock, turning the handle. 

As soon as you walk in the door, you notice something is off. You never left all your lights off in your apartment when you left. Usually you left a lamp on or something. Shutting the door, you turn to the wall and flick on the overhead light. You turn to the living room, and you're met with a figure sitting on your couch. 

"WAAAH!" You yelp, jumping in shock. It's Matt, and he's sitting slumped over on your couch. He looks completely disheveled, bags under his eyes darker than usual. You put your hand over your heart. "Holy shit. You scared me."

You quickly walk over to him, encapsulating him in a hug. He doesn't hug back. "I'm so glad you're okay. You haven't been showing up to work." You say into his shoulder. You pull away, looking at him.

He looks at you with a face of pure anger. You quickly step back, shocked at the sudden change of emotion. "Um. What's wrong?" 

He stands slowly. "What's wrong? What's wrong?" His voice is low, and it puts a pit in your stomach. "You never came to check on me. And you're acting like you really care that I disappeared?"

You gulp. "I did care. But I figured you just wanted some space." 

"I figured you wanted some space..." Matt says in a nasally high-pitched voice. He's mocking you. "Bullshit. If you really cared, you would have came over." 

He's right. But you always called him, emailed him, and knocked on his door to no response. "You never opened your door when I knocked. And news flash, I work over 80 hours a week. I'm constantly exhausted. Yes, I was worried about you, but I knew you would be fine." 

He juts a finger at you. "But I'm NOT fine."

You scoff. "Clearly." 

At that, he pulls out a knife. "Don't fucking give me attitude." 

You step back, hands slightly raised. "Where did you get that?" You didn't even see it in his hand. 

He laughs dryly. "Oh man. You're so fucking oblivious. And you only ever think about yourself." He inches closer, holding out the knife and swinging it loosely with every word. "You're a piece of shit, (Y/N). Always have been." 

You're both in the kitchen now. The phone is right on the wall next to you. If you could just...

"I'm going to fix you (Y/N). Trust me. You'll like it." At that, Matt lunges towards you. You manage to dodge, and he hits his stomach against the corner of the counter. Utilizing the second of him being down, you quickly punch 911 into the wall phone. 

"911 what's your emergency?" 

"Hi, my boyfriend is trying to kill-" 

You're tossed across the kitchen by your hair, phone clashing to the ground. "Hello? Anyone there?"

"You dumb cunt. Don't make this harder than it has to be." Matt seethes, standing over you. You're still laying on the tiled floor, a bit confused on what just happened. Matt quickly sits on top of you, knife in hand. He smiles, holding the knife up to you. He begins to pull the waistband of your scrubs down, exposing your underwear a bit. 

You struggle, absolutely terrified. Matt growls, pinning you down. "Don't fucking move. You'll like it if you just-" 

You don't let him continue, promptly spitting in his face. He grimaces, wiping the saliva off his eyelids. "Don't fucking touch me." You say lowly. 

Matt laughs. In a fit of absolute rage, he lifts the knife up and plunges it directly into your side. You're not sure how to react, simply looking down at the knife that is sticking out the side of your stomach. 

Matt yanks the knife out, and tosses it aside. You're bleeding profusely. "You can't resist now." He says, his face close to yours. You can't say anything. You're shaking, and you press your hands down on the wound to try and stop the bleeding. 

Now he's going to rape you. You're going to fucking die. This isn't how you wanted it to happen. This shouldn't be happening - you can't die!

He's unbuckling his jeans. "Get ready for the time of your li-" 

"PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!"  The door bangs open.

The... police? They're here? You're going to be saved...

Matt groans loudly, staring at the guns that were now fixated on him. He slowly gets off of you, putting his hands on his head. The police feel so far away. Their voices completely muffled. You're drifting out of consciousness now... where's the paramedics...?

You don't notice as the police lead Matt out of your apartment, handcuffed. The last thing you hear is, "Someone get the fucking ambulance!" as you slowly drift out of consciousness. 

- 

You're crying now. Your hands covering your face, shaking in horror. Bob quickly encapsulates you in a hug, feeling the force of your cries against his shirt. 

"He tried to fucking... kill me." You say between sobs, pulling away from Bob. You lift up your shirt, and point at a jagged scar running across the lower part of your stomach. "He barely missed my femoral artery. If he was even 5 centimeters to the left with the blade, I would have died." 

Bob lifts his hand and wipes your tears. You lean in to his touch, smiling softly. Bob is barely keeping it together right now. Someone will die tonight - he's sure of it. 

You wraps your arms around your knees, hugging yourself. "I had to get surgery to repair the internal damage. I was in recovery for at least two months. After that, I decided to move into Kira's house temporarily." 

Bob eyes you. "...And what happened to him?" 

You sigh. "He was jailed, of course. But bailed out within 3 days. He's an only child, and his parents always gave him everything he wanted." You sniff, wiping your nose. "I'm not surprised he was bailed out so early. Kira wanted me to sue him, but I ultimately decided not to. I didn't want to see him again. So I got a retraining order against him, quit my job, and moved across the country." 

Bob clenches his fists. So he's alive...

You sniff again, looking at Bob. "So that's why I moved. Sorry it was long, I just thought that you needed context for the whole-" 

You're promptly cut off as Bob hugs you again. He holds you rather tightly, afraid that you might disappear. Your face is in his shirt, and you sigh in relaxation at his warm touch. You pull away, yawning. "Thank you for listening to me." 

Bob smiles. "Thank you for telling me, sunshine. You tired?" You simply nod. Bob follows you down the hall to your bedroom. He watches as you crawl under the sheets, and he pulls the blanket up to your chin. He presses a light kiss to your forehead, making your cheeks tint pink. 

"Goodnight Darlin'. I'll make breakfast in the morning."

You smile. "I'd like that. Goodnight, Bob." 

 He quickly turns out your light and shuts your door. He's glad you can't see his face now. Bob is absolutely seething with rage. He's going to fucking kill that guy. 

He's sure of it.