Sick Joke

Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of injury and medical trauma.

He had begged for every single moment of his life, every perfection, every single turn that made him who he was. But somehow, one way or another, it all found a way to screw him over. It was almost laughable. Danny could just picture it: some high and mighty bastard up there, looking down with those all-knowing eyes, always on the hunt for the next poor sod to fuck over. And once again, lucky him, it was Danny's turn.

The automatic doors of the Manchester Royal Infirmary barely had time to open before Danny was barging through, his heart slamming against his ribs, his eyes wild. He scanned the chaos of the lobby, zeroing in on anyone in scrubs or a white coat. The first one he saw, he was going to grab them, shake them until they told him what he needed to know.

A siren shrieked, the sound like a knife to his skull. He flinched, his whole body wound tight as a piano cord. Lexi grabbed his arm, he
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