Spencer half laid half sat in the hospital bed because what else could she do really. Her arm was fractured in three places and the heavy cast made it hard to move. Bandages wrapped around her rips where she had to have surgery after her lung collapsed. Breathing was a bitch, pain would ripple out from her chest up her throat and into her stomach but she'd managed with small swallow breaths.
She had no clue how long she'd been in the hospital, at least two weeks by now and her husband had yet to show up which made her heart fell lighter although she knew that it was wrong to be happy about it which made the guilt surge into her brain, He's your damn husband and your glad he isn't here...he was right you are worthless and a coward. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts as one lone tear fell down her cheek; she wished some one would come talk to her. She had been alone except the few nurses and doctors coming in to check up on her condition which was getting better day by day.
"Spencer," turning she saw her main doctor walk in.
"Hey Dr. Manson," she tried to smile but really it was a weak attempt as she had nothing to smile about these days.
Dr. Manson stood at the end of the bed checking the chart which hadn't changed in the three days she'd taken a small vacation, "How are you doing?"
"Um not to bad, my chest is hurting."
"Let me see," Dr. Manson set the chart down and came to the side of Spencer's bed, rolling the sheet down she saw the blood seeping on to the cotton wrapping, "Seems you may have undid the stitches again." The doctor sighed it was the fourth time Spencer had ripped the stitches.
"Sorry," the blond woman glanced down unable to stare at the disappointed face, she hadn't meant to rip the stitches at all, a few coughing fits and nightmares had made it happen.
"Look Spencer I'm going to have a nurse take you back in to stitch you up than after you wake up you need to talk to our resident psychiatrist."
"No,"
"You really don't have a choice my dear, this is what happens when you try and kill yourself." There was no malice or pity in the doctor's voice, just a plain truth hidden in the tune. Dropping her head in defeat she nodded and the doctor sent a nurse in to take her up to get new stitches but just because she was being made to see a shrink didn't mean she'd have to talk.
XXX
Ashley Davies, twenty five year old psychiatrist sat at her desk swarmed with varies case files. Scratching her forehead while trying to write out the latest diagnosis for one of her patients, the whole thing was getting tiring. She wanted something different, challenging, she wanted to feel like she was really helping someone out and not just prescribing medicine to keep them in check.
"Hey Ash," looking up she saw Aiden Dennison a long time friend who worked for Saint Mary's General Hospital as the director, youngest in history so far, leaning in the door way. His jeans snug in place and his feet covered in converse while his white wife beater made his six pack abs stand out. Brown hair swayed in his face which he quickly flipped away, letting it grow out once graduating from college. He was what every woman wanted, charming, sweet and as a lot of people say a total hottie. But he wasn't her type at all because he was sporting some equipment she found not very appealing and the title of man she went for the ladies and he was fine with that.
"Hey Aid what are you doing here?" she wondered sitting back in her chair, the case load forgotten already.
Smiling he sit down in the chair across from her desk, his feet coming to rest on top of the desk, "Just checking up on my bestest friend in the whole world," he joked.
"Funny what do you want?" if he had to butter her up he always wanted something.
He dropped his legs back to the floor and sat forward, "I have a case I think is right down your ally."
"Aiden come on I don't have time, I've got like four other people to see as it is."
"Come on Ash you can so pass those on to someone else, I need your help please?" he clapped his hands together and started the puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know..." she sighed. He was right she could pass on the case load but it kept her from thinking about her messed up life, her mother and sister and her dead father, she always found it completely funny that she evaluated people to determine if they were crazy or suicidal when not to long ago she sat where her patients did having some old senile hag tell her how crazy she was, "What's the case?"
"Yes,"
"I didn't say I'm taking it," she pointed sternly.
He held his hands up, "Okay fine but um...look its female and uh, can you just come by to talk with her."
"Why won't you tell me her name?" she asked curiously.
"Trust me just come by you'll love this," he smirked when he saw the wonder in her eyes, "Great come by at five..." he stood and walked out the door.
Ashley jumped up from her seat rushing toward the door, "I didn't say I was taking it!" she yelled down to the retreating figure. Aiden just waved over his shoulder without turning around, sighing she stalked back to her chair and glanced at all her papers, pressing a small button on the intercom, "Tim find me someone to take my cases for a while I have a new client."
"Right away ma'am," the voice of her assistant spoke before clicking off to do as she asked.
"This better be good Aiden," she breathed out before continuing what she was doing before being interrupted.
TBC.
