Nurse Patrick Preston

4.20. "I don't want your help, I want you safe."
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Co-written with drcampbell | A week after THIS

Lachlan felt a tiny bit of the weight lift from his shoulders that morning when his baby son was moved from the Paediatrics ICU to the standard Paeds Ward. Riley was out of the woods, with his blood sugar still a little unstable, but his breathing and heart rate back to where they should be. He had been in a really bad way when he was brought in, and Lachlan could hardly maintain his composure when he was told what had happened. Riley's blood sugar had dropped when he missed a meal with Tara unable to get to him. He was also dehydrated from having no access to a drink to satiate the thirst that came from the falling BSL. From there, it was just a rapid descent with his health. He had already been running a minor fever, likely from the fact he was teething again. Once the wee boy realised there was no one there to help him when he cried, he inevitably panicked and became rapidly distressed, spiking a fever. By the time Aiden had actually got to him, it was probably hours since Tara placed him in the buggy. His nappy was so soiled and wet, he had a painful rash all over his bottom and genitals, spanning down to the tops of his legs. The panic had him hyperventilating and the crying meant his little nose was blocked and throat was sore, making it difficult to breathe. He had also scratched at his face because he was so distressed, drawing blood even though Tara had always kept his nails trimmed to prevent him accidentally scratching himself.

( When Lachlan had seen his son in the ER, he hadn't been able to do anything but sob... )

All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe


Word Count | 2,185

11.8. "Yep... Inside each and every one of us is one true authentic swing... Somethin' we was born with... Somethin' that's ours and ours alone... Somethin' that can't be taught to ya or learned... Somethin' that got to be remembered... Over time the world can, rob us of that swing... It get buried inside us under all our wouldas and couldas and shouldas... Some folk even forget what their swing was like..."
| The Legend of Bagger Vance

Co-written with drcampbell

Lachlan had his baby son hugged securely in his arms, finding himself lost in a daydream staring out the window into the hospital grounds below. The baby boy was a warm bundle against his chest, the little blond head tucked under Lachlan’s chin. The baby was sleeping, oblivious to the cuddling, but his Dad wasn’t and he was indulging in every minute of it. He patted his hand fondly against the little boy’s extensively diapered bottom. He was so small that it was just all diaper and was much the source of amusement for his parents when they were undressing him for bath time.

( “Someone could set a bomb off in here and you wouldn’t notice, darling,” Pat said with a smile as he made his way slowly into the baby’s hospital room... )


Word Count | 1,555

9.2. "Nobody in the world makes me laugh the way you do. You're my best friend. I just wanna be with you."
| Made of Honour

Co-written with drcampbell

Lachlan secured the fresh diaper on his son and took the tiny hand with his to lean over and kiss his fingers. “There you go, my wee angel. That feels better, aye? You’ve got your eyes open, but all you want is to look at it Mummy…” He turned his head to the direction the baby’s eyes kept following and sighed. “I cannae blame you, a chuilein. She’s beautiful, huh? Most beautiful lassie Daddy ever saw. You miss her, aye? That’s okay, angel… I do too…” He tucked his hands under Riley’s back and scooped him up into his arms to kiss his head.

“I’m destined to never be in a room with you bunch again and not cry, darling,” Pat declared from where he had arrived in the doorway of Tara’s room just a few moments before to witness the close scene between father and son. He quickly brushed a couple of tears away and maneuvered his wheelchair over to where Lachlan was standing.

( Lachlan smiled, softly rubbing his son’s back. “I’ll give you some shares in the Kleenex Company as a late Christmas present,” he joked and sat down beside his friend, leaning in to kiss Pat’s cheek... )

All muses mentioned are referenced with permission and part of the princeton2nyc universe


Word Count | 1,069

Track 19. Don’t want to lose it // it must be worth losing // if it is worth something
(Tori Amos – ‘Talula’)

Co-written with drcampbell

[Follows THIS]

Lachlan tucked the IV pole into the crook of his elbow and carefully eased himself off the hospital bed. His legs felt a little weak and shaky from being so ill in the preceding days, but at least he was back on his feet. Not that it mattered extensively. It wasn’t like he was going to get laid this century or anything. He shoved is box of Kleenex under his other arm and shuffled his way to the other side of the room. Pat was curled up on the second bed in the room, blankets pulled right up to his chin, with zero attempt being made to wipe away the steady stream of tears falling and wetting his pillow. Lachlan took residence in the closet chair to Pat and offered the box of tissues. “You dinnae need to hide, buddy. Also, if you want to be alone, sorry. I’m nay getting back off my arse just yet. You’re stuck with me for a wee while,” he said. “I’m nay quite the blond you’re probably wanting here, but I’m a good second, aye?”

( Pat took a couple of the tissues and wiped his eyes. “You don’t look to have any competition right now,” he pointed out, sounding flat and listless around the slow words... )

Aiden Lewis [mrpublicity] & Tara Brennan-Campbell [doctortara] referenced with permission


Word Count | 910