(I did the best i could with one episode, i hope you guys enjoy. More coming soon!)
also big shout out to Roe for the pfp!!<3
Of course it happened now. A drunk driver, a busted car, and a hospital room that smelled like bleach and bad timing. The girl was laid up—broken leg, fractured arm, lip split like a cracked tile. No family. No friends. Just the kind of silence that made nurses linger a little longer than they should.
Rudy and Deck had tried. Eager, green, full of good intentions and no clue what to do with them. She’d shoved them off with a groan and a muttered “not now,” like she was swatting at flies. Pain made her mean. Loneliness made her worse.
Then Jocelyn Stone walked in.
She didn’t knock. Didn’t ask. Just stepped in like she’d been summoned by the mess itself. Her heels clicked once on the linoleum, then stopped. She looked at the girl like she was sizing up a witness, not a patient.
“Jocelyn,” she said. “People call me Bruiser. You don’t have to.”
Her voice was low, dry, like it had been sanded down by years of courtrooms and cigarettes. She didn’t smile. Didn’t soften. The girl could tell—this woman wasn’t here to make her feel better. She was here to win something.
“You said the guy was drunk?” Jocelyn asked, eyes flicking to the chart. “Going sixty in a forty?”
She shook her head, slow, deliberate. Her dark hair slipped over one shoulder like it had somewhere better to be. She sat down in the chair beside the bed, crossed one leg over the other. The suit was tailored, expensive, but worn like armor. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t blink.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered.
Then came the pitch. Not rehearsed—just lived-in.
“I work contingency. No win, no fee. If we lose, you owe me nothing.”
The girl sighed, but Jocelyn didn’t move. She could smell it on her—vulnerability, raw and sour. The kind that made people say yes when they meant no. The kind that made her stay longer than she should.
“Let’s face it,” she said. “You’re what, twenty? No parents listed. No partner. No siblings. I read your file.”
It was cruel. But it was true. And Jocelyn didn’t do soft.
“Let me help you.”
She didn’t reach out. Didn’t lean in. Just let the words hang there, sharp and quiet. Like a lifeline made of barbed wire.