Fics like silver and red

Abbot lifted his head to look down at her. “See, that’s the post-traumatic stress. Something happens that your brain decides is a life or death situation. You have a massive adrenaline kick while it’s all happening, and then when it’s bleeding out of you on the comedown, your brain throws out anything that’s not completely vital. The amount of car crash patients we have who don’t even remember coming to the ER when they submit requests for their medical records for insurance… the brain’s a weird thing, Mohan.” “Yeah,” she said, shooting him a look out of the side of her eyes. “It can even make you convinced you have to hurt yourself in order to seek external validation when the most logical course of action is rest.” He snorted softly, shaking his head and leaning it back. “God,” he muttered, his cheeks stained pink. “Robby was right. You should have gone into psych.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A night shift from hell ends in Mohan giving Abbot a ride back to his place, where tensions finally boil over.

Fics like silver and red

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