Ask a surgeon why they became a surgeon. Everyone is bound to say the exact same thing. It's the thrill of the cut; the way the world stops when the scalpel is placed in their hands. The authority they obtain in the operating theatre as if they were half as powerful as God. Being the hero, but most of all, having the ability to save a life. A perfect stranger's life.

Owen Hunt was always the best. With a string of A's at high school, he had successfully made it into one of the country's top medical school – Harvard. Ever since his youth, he knew that medicine was the right career path for him. Owen had never failed anything before. He was almost perfect in everything he did. However, this all changed the moment he stepped foot in Westpoint Hospital.

Trauma cases piled in one after the other, constant with people in need of immediate medical attention.

"Severed leg caught in a motorbike accident," the nurse told the young doctor whilst pulling in a middle aged man on a gurney. Blood soaked through his blue denim jeans staining the pristine white floors. Sensing that something was wrong due to the man's harsh breath sounds, Owen said to the patient, "Hello, I'm Dr. Hunt, will you please take off your jacket so I could do a quick examination?"

"Yes sir," the man managed to breathe out, "Will you contact my daughter, she's all I got and I feel as if this is serious."

"Sure thing, I will get one of my nurses to get in touch with your daughter. For now don't worry and just relax as you're in safe hands," replied Owen while moving on to examine his chest. Blood was seeping through the man's shirt. 'How could a paramedic have overlooked this and how is it possible that this man is still fully conscious?" the doctor thought to himself. "Nurse, we need to get this man to an OR now!"