I don't really know how to explain this - it's just an idea and piece of writing I've had floating around for quite some time. Don't know if I'm going to go anywhere further with it, but it was interesting to write so who knows? If you feel like letting me know what you think please feel free to leave a comment!
Six Stitches
Juliana cursed under her breath when she realised the cigarettes she thought she had in her jacket pocket were actually the cigarettes she threw out the night before when she had the bright idea to go cold turkey. A decision she made, before she got shoved into a wall and before she took off running after a crooked detective and subsequently tackled to the ground.
Sat in the loading bay entrance of Trinity General hospital, she watched the porters weaving in and out the doors with envy as they chain-smoked their way through pack after pack, one after the other. She knew she could go over at any time and 'confiscate' their smokes. As a second ranking internal affairs detective she had the power to arrest them for smoking within the boundaries of a public building.
Somewhat extreme, but if she was desperate for a smoke it was easily in reach.
Instead, she chose to chew at her nails, a nasty habit she'd picked up when stressed at college during her finals.
"You know that's a bad habit don't you?"
Juliana looked up at the man who'd suddenly appeared at her side. Squinting against the light of the street lamp beside her, she considered her options. The idea of ignoring him was the most appealing, but her mother's voice rang in her ears reminding her not to be impolite.
"Much healthier than smoking."
The man looked over in the direction Juliana had been staring at previously.
"You smoke?"
"I quit." She replied sadly, regretting the previous nights midyear resolution.
"Good for you."
"Hmm, I'm having my doubts."
He hitched his rucksack higher on his shoulder, contemplating on carrying on down the path and out of the grounds of the hospital but unfortunately, both his mouth and feet had other ideas.
"It's a little dark to be hanging out here on your own."
For the first time since his arrival, she took a proper look at the man stood beside her. He looked no much older than her, she was twenty-five and took him to be twenty-seven at the oldest, but she was never good a guessing ages – always adding years onto people where they weren't needed. He was African American and she estimated he was a few inches taller than her and seemed friendly enough – but she was in no sociable mood.
Despite the coat he wore she could tell he was wearing scrubs underneath, it didn't take a genius to work out he was part of the hospital staff.
"You're a doctor?"
Her simple observation was enough to produce a grin across his face.
"Yes. Yes I am." He said, the reaffirming of his statement for his own benefit.
She nodded, but said nothing.
"Are you visiting?" He asked, his feet still refusing to move.
Juliana didn't know how to explain that she'd just seen the end of a nine month long investigation into that of a crooked cop, discovered selling recovered arms set to be destroyed to gangs across New York, all of which had accumulated into the shooting of an officer.
"You could say so." She said sadly as she forced a smile, not wanting to deal with the events of the night just gone quite yet.
It was then he noticed the nasty gash to the side of her forehead. Dropping his rucksack to the floor he crouched down next to the brunette.
"You're bleeding."
She brushed it off, "It's nothing."
"It can't be nothing."
Even under the dim light of the streetlight beside them, he could tell it was no simple scratch.
"Really, it doesn't hur- bastard!" She cried when the doctor pressed his fingers to the fresh cut.
"I think you're lying."
"Really? What gave that away?" She seethed.
"You should be inside, getting treated."
"Honestly, I'm fine." She pressed, not one for fuss she tried to brush him off once more. All she wanted to do was find out how Reeves was, then hit the newsstand she saw two blocks down on her way in, grab a pack of smokes and head home to chain smoke her way through what was left of the night.
"Who's the doctor here?"
"Will it get you off of my back?"
"What do you think?"
She sighed, defeated her shoulders slumped and she begrudgingly stood.
"Well you better move quick before I change my mind."
…………………………………………………
"There you go, only six stitches. Wasn't all that bad was it?"
"You weren't the one receiving them."
"It's all over now."
Juliana sniffed, "Thank you."
"You'll need to revisit the clinic to have the stitches removed. I thought we could get away with dissolvable stitches or glue but the cut was deeper than expected."
"Another war wound to add to the collection." She sighed, remembering the last trip to the emergency room after another raid that hadn't gone down as planned.
He scribbled out a prescription from the pad he pulled from his pocket. Ripping off the paper he handed it to the detective as she pulled on her jacket.
"Some painkillers, they're nothing heavy duty but they'll take the sting off over the next couple of days."
"Thank you." She replied, pocketing the prescription.
"I take it this should be billed to the NYPD."
She froze, she'd never revealed she was with the NYPD nor made any reference to the mound of officers that had come in earlier escorting the officer who'd been shot. "You knew all along?"
"The badge on your hip kinda gave it away. That and the fact I saw you come into the ER with the officer who'd been shot. I was clocking off as you came in."
"Why did you stick around?"
"I ran into a stubborn detective on my way out."
He was sure he saw a slight hint of a blush creep up her cheeks as she looked bashfully to her feet below her.
"I didn't get your name." She said, forcing herself to look up at the man before her.
The doctor snapped off his rubber gloves, giving the IAB detective a sincere smile. "Doctor Hawkes. Sheldon Hawkes."
Little did he know he'd be stitching her up again under similar circumstances five years later.
