Crash Landing - Tumblr Posts

Crash Landing Part I

Oh henlo frens.

I did actual medical research for this fanfiction. Please, do not attempt any of the medical procedures in this work of fiction. If you are suffering any sort of medical disorder or injury, please contact your local physician.

I do not own the photo.

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Alien!AU, Sci-fi, Romance, Smut (Future), Adventure.

Warning: There are descriptions of medical procedures, please be aware of this when reading.

As a medical technician in study, the opportunity for practice never gets past you. You’d go to the local shelters and offer advice on small colds or even lacerations. Your village wasn’t very large, and a majority of the people who lived here, worked in the closest city or town.

You were a strong believer in natural remedies and searching through the forests to gather plenty of herbal painkillers and mint oils for recurring headaches. Rarely did you send away people to go to the closest clinic, because people around here weren’t rich.

Money wasn’t abundant in your modest village. People shared and took care of one another. Lived off of what nature gifted them with and relied on their own two hands to achieve stability in their humble lives.

Everyone you’d grown up with had either left in pursuit of the flashy lives and new exploits of the cities... People and booze being a strong pull to stave off the boredom that could creep into everyone’s bones.

However, you were an exception. You hated the city, the loud sounds and crowds only serving to scare you and giving you a massive headache. But, you were a self taught medical student hoping to head for the same city you loathed. As much as you loved and preferred herbal remedies, sometimes the knowledge gained from professional medicine is better than your salves. When you gathered enough money from helping the people locally, you planned on starting some classes. Staying in town to help of course.

People around you supported your decision, even though women weren’t generally accepted into the medical field. You were determined to make a difference. Cause a ripple in the pond of the cosmos and see what new things were to be discovered.

So far, it was going well. You had enough money saved up to no doubt get you through a few semesters at a small college. Your dream of helping people could come to fruition if you just kept going, and didn’t give up...

Until it all came crashing down around you.

A fire.

It had been a regular morning, waking up in your small cottage on the outskirts of the small lake where you’d see fishermen heading out for the morning catch. But, today was different.

You lived just beyond the boundaries of the village, so you wouldn’t hear much at night other than the soft waves from the lakeshore.

And that night you heard nothing either.

No desperate pounding on your door, nothing to elude to danger. But it was because it all happened too fast for anyone to comprehend.

You woke up and started making your coffee, one of the luxuries you could never live without. The local general store always had some in stock in case you were to come in for your fix.

The smell comforted you in the brisk morning. You walked out of your home and sat on the porch, grabbing a medical terminology book you’d been studying and getting a start on the surgical section of the text, when you smelt something... off...

It wasn’t unusual for you to smell bonfire smoke, as many families had one to get together and talk about their lives, to visit and to make memories with each other under the starlight. Warmed by the flames as they made merry.

However, this morning was different. The air didn’t smell of simple burning firewood, it smelt of scorched wood and... the horrible stench of charred flesh tainted with boiling blood. You knew the scent well from having to handle multiple burn wounds from the local fletcher. A kind hearted gentleman perhaps just a bit too clumsy for his own good.

Soon, you were off your porch, your precious book forgotten as you ran through the forest towards the awful smell. You noticed that the closer you got to town, the more the air was thick with fog, perhaps smoke. Heart pounding and feet aching you arrived on the outskirts of your beloved home... And the sight was ungodly.

Buildings collapsed and charred wood bare to the morning haze. You were frozen in your tracks as you gazed upon the scene before you. The entire village was razed, almost unrecognizable to your acute memory. Your favorite bakery sat in shambles, glass shattered about the ground outside.

You remember just the morning prior going to get a few croissants that sat in their box at home, waiting to be eaten. Now, they were a horrible sight to behold. One of the last things Mr. Noble had sold in his life.

They still sat in your window sill, rotting.

Mrs. Allison’s bookstore, gone. The books proved to be an incredible source of kindling. The building must’ve been swallowed in moments...

Your chest ached at the sights before you, and from the smoke inhalation you were subjecting yourself to. Quickly, you pulled out your handkerchief from your robe and doused it in water from the charred well. You applied the cool cloth to your face and kept walking.

The church where you’d helped so many during weekly mass was now a husk of its former comfort. Now, serving as a haunting reminder that God had turned his back on this town in their hour of need... Yet left you standing in the waste, alone.

Next would be where the Fletcher's station should have stood... Yet, there was nothing but chunks of stone and nearly decimated wood framework that sat, still smoldering. The heat you felt was nearly unbearable... You couldn’t imagine how it must’ve been a mere two hours before.

The blaze started here, you surmised, gathering more and more information as you looked around. The buildings next to the fletchers station had the most damage, and what hurt you the most was the fact that everything appeared to be rather fresh. This couldn’t have happened more than four hours ago. Everything was still smoking and bright red ambers showed in the morning dew.

You wandered aimlessly, the ground underneath your feet proving to still be hot as you felt your foot jolt in pain. You noticed that a metal mirror lay cracked in the Earth, no doubt from Emerson’s fine Jeweler’s that was only steps away. Taking your robe off you gathered the mirror and took it with you.

That mirror sits on your bedside table to this day. The cracked glass still serving as a reminder of this night.

Growing more and more desperate for human company, you began to yell.

“IS ANYONE OUT THERE?” you cried, looking from left to right for a sign of life the form from the ashes.

“CAROLINE!” you cried out for one of your close friends, the daughter of the Fletcher who would be turning eighteen in just a few weeks. She was planning on leaving for the city to become fashion designer. Proving to be just as skillful with her hand as her beloved father.

“MR. CEILBAKSKI!” the Polish man who moved in not even three years ago, who made delicious Perogies and started making toys for the children who adored his company.

“MISS SELIA!” you cried, falling to your knees on the wounded Earth below. She was the town’s teacher. She had taught you and realized your potential for helping others. Miss Selia was the woman who gave you her personal copy of an herbal remedies book that had set you on your path to where you stood today.

As you sat in the ash, a cold breeze came through the town. You then felt soft droplets of rain begin to brush your skin.

At that moment, you began to cry.

Slowly, the ash and smoke began to settle and the Earth’s wounds were healed by the gift of rain. The wood of the buildings cooled, the metal cracked from the temperature change. You heard the warping of glass and the smell began overwhelming.

You quickly found yourself vomiting into the gray ash that sat underneath you. Realizing that you were now alone in the world. Everyone you’d ever known in your life had been taken from you in one night. The worst part?

No one would ever know either.

People rarely ventured this far into the wilderness, seeing no point other than to trade. But trade was all organized by correspondence, and now seeing as you were the only residence... No one would be coming by at all.

Shame and disgrace drenched your being more than the rain from the heavens. You failed your townspeople. You were supposed to help them and keep them healthy, yet here you were, alive and well while they were all gone... Burned in the night while you slept comfortably in your bed.

The very thought disgusted you, causing another wave of nausea to wash over your body. Dry heaving, you clambered to your feet. You had to get away from here, the disappointment was immeasurable. You’d let them all down. It was your fault.

So, that day you decided...

You’d live in solitude for the rest of your existence, and never practice medicine again. You had no right, after how many died from your negligence.

Accepting your new found seclusion, you went home.

Leaving the village you had once loved so much, as a haunting memory.

* * *

The years that followed were mundane and silent. The only human interaction you had was from travelers that heard of your remedies. You simply told them you were no longer in practice, and they left... Sometimes offering some form of compensation for disturbing you.

You hadn’t much need for money.

You had some saved up from... before...

You sustained yourself and kept yourself alive by living off the land, like the others had before you. It was all very boring, and you longed for some form of excitement, or death. Whichever came first.

And you were living quietly, until one afternoon.

It was near dusk, you were sitting peacefully out on your porch, letting the warm sun bath your skin in light. The day had been wholly uninteresting, the only sort of thrill you had was when a branch fell onto your porch and made a knocking sound.

Travelers had stopped coming months ago.

Leaving you to your isolation as planned.

However, you found that you craved human people desperately. Although every time you found yourself longing, you reminded yourself of your misgivings and reprimanded your whimpering heart that this is what you deserved. You were to be alone, and that was the end of it.

That was, until a ear splitting BOOM echoed through the melancholy forest.

The sound of crunching metal and disturbed Earth ricocheted off the somber trees. You jolted from your chair where you found yourself nodding off, lost in your own thoughts. Ears ringing you rubbed your head in pain.

What in God’s name could’ve caused such a sound?

Your mind reeled at the sudden disturbance as you struggled to think of a logical reason for the sudden disruption. Could it be some sort of natural phenomenon that you simply had forgotten about? Were there hunters in the forest?

No... You’d heard hunters within the months, and none of their methods of capture were this deafening.

Perhaps it was a-

“HELP ME!”

A blood curdling scream reached your ears. Your body went cold. Someone was hurt.

Before you knew it you were on your feet and rushing towards the direction you swore to never venture towards again. Even though you hadn’t traveled the path in years, your legs remembered the turns and sights perfectly.

Turn left as the rotting oak tree, keep going straight for fifty paces.

Soon, you were back in the ruins of your ghostly past. And, right where the schoolhouse rubble used to sit, was an odd looking... something...

It was large, possibly the size of the former proudly standing church. It shone in the blazing afternoon sun. The smell of something foreign reached your nose and you coughed at the weird scent. You couldn’t describe ever smelling something like it before, and approached the vessel with caution.

Coughing, you attempted to speak.

“Hello?” your voice sounded off to your own ears. You had no need to speak in the silence of your life. You got closer to the vessel slowly, nervous to what you would find.

Suddenly, a groan of pain alerted you towards the remnants of Mr. Noble’s bakery. A person was on the ground, in a heap, covered in what looked like soot and other various smudges. You saw that they appeared to be male, however you weren’t sure... Because they were absolutely beautiful.

Their skin was pale and scuffed, but shone against the stark contrast of their bleak surroundings. They appeared to have a metal toned hair color that you’d never seen on a human being before.

“A-are you alright?” you asked, getting closer to their form. You immediately noticed the hiccuped breathing that no doubt was caused by a fractured costal. You bit your lip and tried not to think about it. “Can you hear me?” you asked, placing a hand on the ground next to them, not sure if you should get any closer to the stranger.

“Help... me...” they pleaded, their eyes not opening, but you could feel their agony as if it were your own.

“I-I...” you struggled.

You told yourself that you no longer had the right to practice after what occured in this very town years ago. And you hadn’t, other than making minor salves for your own personal use. However, this might be the worst case you’d ever seen.

And, just maybe...

If the Lord would grant you this one success, you could rest easier at night knowing you’d at least help one more person...

Just one more...

Without another thought you reached out and touched their head. They seemed to relax into your touch and you tested their arm to see if there were any fractures to inhibit your moving them

When you saw no reaction from the poor soul and felt no large fractures, you began to pull them up off the ground.

“Ah...” they grumbled in a low tenor... So it was a man...

“Sir, can you hear me? I’m going to need you to stand up, I’ll support you, but you have to try to stand up for me,” you persuaded. The male coughed and flexed his legs in an attempt to push himself up.

That small amount of strength was enough for you to get him up and resting against your side. Taking on the brunt of his weight you could feel how exhausted his body was. He needed to rest as soon as possible.

Interlocking your fingers and securing your hold around his waist you began to walk.

Slowly but surely you made it back to your cottage before darkness had completely encapsulated the world.

Walking into your home you helped the man onto your bed, nearly falling on top of him in your own fatigue. But now was not the time for sleep, there was much work to be done.

Quickly, your mind was set back into your medical knowledge. You rushed to your well outdoors and grabbed the cloths that were hanging on the wire outside to dry. You gathered up your skirts and hurried back inside before too much time elapsed.

Now was the time to make haste. The first twenty four hours after an incident were the make or break moments. It was here you decided if he lived or died.

“Just one more, please,” you begged to yourself as you set down the bowl of water and grabbed the familiar yellow sprigs of witch hazel and put them in the water. Witch hazel has many healing properties for the skin, not just with cleansing and anti-inflammatory. It would help with the bruising he would experience no doubt.

While letting the witch hazel set in the water for potency you ran to your cupboard in search of your peppermint salve. The peppermint will ease the ache of his muscles and help with his respiratory struggles as well.

Coming back to his side you looked at his clothing.

It looked nothing like what you’d ever seen before. Had clothing changed that much in the past years you’d been out of society? Certainly that wasn’t the case. Regardless of his odd attire, it was going to have to come off.

Your cheeks flushed red as your mind wandered to less appropriate thoughts, making you shake your head in frustration. He was your patient, not someone to fantasize about! How dare you think so lowly of someone in need!

You went to the odd metal clasps at the front of his, tunic? Whatever it may be, it opened quickly and you removed it and set it aside, looking at his torso in worry. There were multiple small cuts and scrapes that the witch hazel would cleanse properly, however, there were a few cuts that would need more attention.

Examining closer, you saw there was a shard of glass lodge in his pectoral that would need to be removed promptly. Another worrying discovery presented itself to you soon after.

The result of a collapsed lung showed on his skin. The bluish tint to his otherwise pale flesh made your heart skip in worry. He either was struck on the chest extremely hard, or there was something penetrating him from the back.

Quick to find the cause of his ailment you delicately pushed him on his side, ensuring that the collapsed lung wouldn’t be affected too harshly from the movement. Seeing no protruding injury you decided to make your decision.

You had to perform surgery. And soon.

Desperately thinking back to your medical textbooks you remembered that doing this would be risky, and you had to prepare accordingly. Rushing to your long forgotten medical cabinet you discovered your old, but clean medical tools. Searching for the open holed syringe, you almost cried with joy when it was in your hands.

Clambering over the young man with haste you settled yourself on his hips and gathered your courage. You’d never tried any kind of aspiration before this moment. You whispered a quick prayer for your patient’s safety before gripping the syringe and forcing it directly in the center of the blue twinged area. The man underneath you huffed in pain, but you were quick to begin removing the air that had been caught between the collapse lung and his chest cavity.

Eventually, you managed to get his breathing to ease and watching as the blue hue to his breath taking skin started to lessen as well. Soon, you grabbed your witch hazel infused water and began to cleans all of his wounds on his torso.

You glance at his legs and thanked God that there didn’t appear to be severe damage. Minor scrapes that could be easily cleansed and healed were the majority. A gash peaked out from underneath his pant leg...

Damn, you’d have to remove the trousers to see the full extent of the damage. You didn’t want to disrobe the poor man without his knowledge, but his health was of your main concern at the moment.

Slowly, you unbuckled his pants and tugged on the fabric gingerly, careful to not disturb any possible injuries lying underneath the material. Once his clothing was removed you found a sizable cut that would need sutures.

Grabbing your witch hazel solution you cleansed his laceration. You sighed and noticed that it was still bleeding badly. You collected your sewing kit and lit a candle. Holding the needle over the flame you watched and assessed its cleanliness. After a few more times in the fire you moved towards your patient. Ensuring that the area was dry and sterile you proceeded.

You sat in the dimming light of night and tied off the sutures and leaned back on your haunches.

It was no doubt closing in upon the witching hour. His survival now depended on him, and his ability to pull through the darkest hours of the night. If he woke to see morning, there was a very good chance of him to see many more days in the future.

You placed a cool cloth with the witch hazel on his forehead to dissuade fever from creeping in on him during the night. Next, you grabbed your garlic oil and placed a few drops in his mouth following with a few drops of peppermint oil to even out the stench.

Next you collected your basil lavender balm and rubbed it on his wrists and on the tender areas of his skin. When you brushed your hair out of your face you noticed his hair was caked with dried blood and a black, slick liquid. Your face turned up in displeasure before you hurried to gather some some and rosemary to clean his hair with. He’d need a bath when he woke, no doubt, but for now cleaning him up would be a good idea.

Setting your items down on the bedside table, you walked out to get a bowl of water for his hair. Pumping the well you thought back to what had unfurled in the past hours...

What was that large, vessel like structure in the town square? Who was the man currently sleeping in your bed and, what was he doing out in this area of the forest? So many questions swirled in your mind that what brought you out of your thoughts was the cold water sloshing on your feet. You’d overflown the bowl of water in your state.

Shaking your head you moved back towards your cottage. For now, the questions didn’t matter. Saving this man’s life what your main priority.

Kneeling beside him you collected the soap into a lather and washed his hair gingerly, making sure not to jostle him too aggressively. You didn’t feel any kind of fractures or tension in his neck. He was lucky in that respect, he could’ve been in a lot of trouble if his neck or spine had been injured. Leaning over his body you watched a shiver go down his form.

Was he cold?

You noticed that he was only clad in some sort of undergarments. You squealed at the realization of you not covering him properly!

“I’m sorry, hang on,” you whispered, rushing to your closet and getting some linens out. Coming back to his side you unfolded a soft sheet that would keep the bulk of the blanket from irritating his wounds. You wanted them uncovered for the night. Giving them the chance to breathe and in the morning you would bind them for recovery.

Laying the blanket over top of the sheet you watched as he seemed to settle slightly, tension leaving his torso. You rubbed your forehead in exhaustion. The day was taking its toll on you. However, there was still things to do.

Seizing one of your towels you dried his silver hair. You inspected the strands and found that they were naturally occuring. Not like that hair changing practice beauticians had began doing in the cities. Next you grabbed your brush and comb through his locks to get out any tangles so he would sleep comfortably. Right now, rest was imperative. His strained muscles needed to relax and keep from any kind of strenuous activities.

Examining your work you placed your hands on your hips with pride. You’d done what you could for him. At this sensation a few tears came to your vision. This was why you loved medicine. Bringing someone from the brink of death back, giving them their years back before they were taken too soon. It was these rewarding emotions that kept you going...

And perhaps, you could start again...

No!

You were only saving him because you were his only chance at survival... That’s the only reason you allowed yourself to aid him. And once he was healed, you’d never touch your instruments again...

But now, there were mundane chores to attend to.

You were efficient in taking his clothing out and dunking them in the lake, submerging them in the water and scrubbing them on your board to ensure all the gunk came out. There were decent slices taken out of the material that you’d have to mend later on...

His injuries shouldn’t take terribly long to heal. The real worries were his collapsed lung and his laceration of the left thigh. Once those were set for recovery, he’d have to leave. You preferred this solitude... Didn’t you?

Taking his clothing back towards your home you hung them out to dry, only then did you let yourself sink back onto the floor next to his bedside. You’d only sleep for a few moments, then you’d get to work on... on...

Sleep became harder to fight as you leaned against your bed. He’d be resting for a while, and so should you...

With these thoughts in your head, you drifted off into your dreams.