literature

Spero | Matt + Mello

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JustABrokenSpirit
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Literature Text

scindere (to despair)

He had pretty eyes, and blood didn’t go with the perfume of cigarette smoke.

The ambulance staff deserved full kudos - to have kept him alive long enough to arrive at the hospital. Dripping quietly to death, he lay across a cold white table, staining it where he rested as he battled to stay alive. Whether he’d been given the opportunity to try, was another story. In the end, the chance of his survival was minimal and no doctor enjoyed performing on a corpse-to-be. Why bother? There were others with a high probability that they’d make it to tomorrow, with families crying in the waiting room, that deserved to go on that much more. No one was here for the bullet wound brunette; he was a John Doe that none but a desperate nurse was trying to keep alive.

“How can you call yourself doctors when he needs treatment and you’d rather pull the plug? A doctor’s job is to save, not to choice who deserves to go on! You’re not a god!”

“If there’s a God up there, he’s pretty much decided to give this young man up anyway.”

Outspoken and rarely submissive, the nurse would have been the first one fired if not for her talent in keeping the rhythm of the heartbeats that entered the hospital on the brink of survival. This wasn’t the first time she’d fought her seniors, seniors who’d seen enough death to be invariably prepared for the worst, yet they’d grown to respect her for the few cases in her backstory that she’d miraculously kept going as they themselves felt more suited to a grave adorned with posies.

The new John Doe would not be left to be forgotten; the young nurse promised herself she’d learn his name. She’d find the name Matt one that rolled off the tongue.


dolere (to suffer)

There was breathing, faint and rugged, but breathing nonetheless. He’d survived the operation and the night just about. Forcing herself through a self-elected night shift, the nurse had been up and waiting for any sign that something was about to go wrong, any sign that she’d need to call a doctor to give him yet another chance to survive.

It was funny how burns worked. A first-degree hurt like hell but a third degree, like the ones painted across the newest patient’s body, would be barely noticeable. That much flame destroyed nerve endings without the slightest of effort- there was nothing to be felt, he’d be numb in large parts of his body but not being able to know whether his body was still complete would, no doubt, hurt the most. His skin would then be charred and blackened, like a supernatural creature from a badly-made horror film; modern society would struggle to meet his eyes.

Taking a sip from the plastic cup that had kept her up, the nurse looked over her newest subject. He’d been the pretty boy in school for sure (his sharp features and lean build, now wrapped with bandages would have made sure of that) but when (if) he woke up, he’d be a comparable to an alien as people judged from what they deemed an appropriate distance. Few had learnt to accept burn scars, fewer had thought of the survivors behind the scalded flesh. However, John Doe 2 (as she’d come to call him) had a scar already. He was a fighter, and the nurse couldn’t help believing that, if anything, a society of hate would fuel him onwards; he seemed too strong to fall victim.

And then, perhaps it was sleep deprivation and perhaps it was the general fatigue that came with the job, but the young woman by the burn victim’s side felt a tear trickling down her cheek. One day, this boy would be achieving amazing things and he would be referred to longer as John Doe. Mello (as she’d perhaps find out) had a second chance at life.


conlucere (to shine)

His body aches (he’s scared to move) and the closed curtains let in too much light to focus. All his eyes are achieving is a blurry daze around him, colours he’d never expected to see again and Matt’s overwhelmed.

Then there’s a gleam opposite him and, though his eyes offer him nothing but a hopeful guess to who’s the one wrapped in bandages just by his body, that blonde hair has never lost its hue of gold.

He smiles.
mattmattandmellodeathnotedramafriendshiphospitalmedicinemelloplatonicreadersperoreaderinsertdeathnoteanimedeathnotefanfictionreaderinsertfanfiction
I don't own the Death Note universe.
I only own my words and my ideas.

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Spero (to hope)

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Requested by Melonbread3 months ago and I'm super sorry it's taken me so long to finish all your requests!! I hope this was okay though although it may be a bit inaccurate since I'm not very versed in medicine (I have been doing a lot of research to try make up for this so hopefully it's not too bad?)

The reader is the nurse.
© 2017 - 2024 JustABrokenSpirit
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Melonbread3's avatar
Melonbread3
oh wow!!!!
I'm sorry I only noticed this now, I haven't been on deviantart recently but this was just plain beautiful!
I'm amazed!
like the words in between, i think it's latin? - it's so great, almost like a little poem written between the lines
you wrote this so beautiful and from what I understand of medicine, it's correct and I just... I'm in freekin love with it. Now I'm not able to decide which of the prompts turned out best. like, i love them all so much!!!!
all the love from me, my dearie, this is such a nice present!