Chapter 2

An Atypical Doctor

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Clarke Griffin, the head trauma surgeon, wasn't sure what to think after receiving a phone call for an emergency operation at just after dawn. It was barely passed 7 in the morning when she woke up to her phone blasting the song E.R. into the room and waking Clarke up from her sleep. Waking up abruptly left Clarke momentarily disoriented, as it always did, and it took her about halfway through the ringtone for her to answer in a tired voice. "Dr. Griffin speaking, what's the emergency?"

"Dr. Griffin? Um, this is Dr. Clarke Griffin right?" The voice on the other line asked.

"Oh, yes. My apologies, I sometimes forget to say which one I am." Clarke was still waking up fully so she forgot to specify which Dr. Griffin she was, something she was more conscious of doing if she hadn't woken up just barely a minute into a conversation over the phone.

"Good, we have an emergency patient who looks to be the victim of a gunshot wound through the stomach and she flat lined while in the ambulance on the way to the hospital after someone else called them for her. She has lost a lot of blood and from the preliminary report she appears to have been bleeding for quite some time before receiving medical attention. We need you as soon as possible because she has only just entered the building doctor."

"Yes, of course. I'll be there as soon as possible. Probably not more than ten minutes."

"We'll see you then Dr. Griffin."

Sighing, now that she was off of the phone, Clarke made her way to her en suite bathroom while pulling her shirt off and grabbing a new shirt before brushing her teeth. She changed her pants while moving to grab socks and then left after grabbing her keys. She was glad that she had become more efficient when it came to multitasking in order to leave more quickly when emergencies such as this one arose, as they always undoubtedly would. Clarke managed to leave her house within five minutes and the drive to the hospital was five minutes as well, she had chosen to move into a house close to the hospital to make things even easier for herself as well. Clarke sometimes just walked to the hospital because it was so close and she wanted to burn off some restless energy.

Making her way into the building she saw that the building was actually a bit quiet, the early morning might have been part of it. Jackson approached Clarke almost as soon as she walked into the building. "This way Clarke. She's barely hanging on right now. She seems tough because after I got a look at her she lost at least two pints of blood if not a bit closer to three at this point. Most people would be dead by now because she's lost close to three pints of blood Clarke. If she loses anymore we're going to lose her, let's hurry."

They walked down the hallways swiftly as Clarke continued to listen to whatever else Jackson had to say about the patient. She had an entry and exit wound so they didn't have to worry about removing a bullet from her body but because of the exit wound she lost more blood while she was trying to find help. Clarke listened intently but she had so many questions running through her head. She wondered why no one had contacted the ambulance earlier if she had been shot sometime in the middle of the night. On top of that, why didn't the woman herself contact anyone when she had first been shot? Then again she could have just forgotten her cell phone somewhere or something.

Questions and thoughts ran through her head but Clarke knew she needed to listen to Jackson. "Do you think there's a chance she might not survive while I'm operating on her Jackson?"

The question had cut Jackson off while he had been explaining something so it took him a moment to register the question before he answered. "I'd say that there is a higher chance for her to survive with you as her surgeon. So, yes, there is a chance she might not survive."

"All right. She's in this room right? Let me go get prepared for surgery."

"Of course. Do you need to know anything else before you go in to operate on her Clarke?" Clarke shook her head in lieu of answering him verbally. "All right, I'll leave you to it then."

Entering the room the blonde had certain expectations. One, she would change into clean scrubs. Two, she would wash her hands up to her elbows. Three, someone would open the door for her to enter. Four, she would put gloves on to operate. Five, she would start the procedure and remain completely focused with her task. She faltered slightly during step three when she looked upon the face of her patient and felt an immediate attraction to the gorgeous, breathtaking brunette lying on the operating table in front of her. She had such elegant features, her cheekbones were so defined, her strong jawline was deadly in how extremely appealing it was, but most of all Clarke was curious about her eyes. The eyes were the feature that usually spoke the most about a person.

She mentally shook her thoughts off and walked over to the room, "have you figured out her blood type yet?" Clarke asked the nearest doctor to her, Atom.

"Yes, Dr. Griffin. She had a pretty rare blood type doctor, she's O- so it's a bit difficult getting her blood type but I think we have enough bags to transfer."

"Great, let's get started on the transfusion as soon as possible because even though she isn't losing any more blood now, she's still lost enough blood that she is at risk for going into shock at any moment. When is the blood going to get here?"

"Um, I think it should be any minute now because we sent someone about ten minutes ago."

Just then someone came into the room with several bags of blood on a cart. "I've got blood for the patient."

"Let's get started then." Clarke was never nervous going into an operation but she was a bit this time. She had lost patients before, something that she had never gotten used to no matter how many she had lost over the years. It was never an easy thing, knowing that someone's life was in her hands but it was worse when she knew the odds were against her and this time there were quite a few odds stacked against her for a successful operation. This patient might not see past the next few hours but Clarke was going to try her damnedest to save her.

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Once or twice during the surgery Clarke was worried that her patient might flat line during the procedure to stitch her up while also pumping blood through her veins. It was a rather long surgery repairing all of her internal damage, the bullet miraculously didn't tear through her pancreas or kidneys but right in between them. That was one less thing to patch up and account for and for that Clarke was glad. Overall Clarke was congratulated on a successful surgery just two hours later and she smiled at everyone, like she usually did, and found an excuse to be left alone. Paperwork, her least favorite chore of being a doctor, was going to save her from pleasantries once again.

Filling out paperwork was definitely time consuming because Clarke refused to develop what everyone called 'doctor's writing' and actually wrote things legibly and neatly. Her writing was a bit cramped and slightly slanted in a way that made it obvious she was left handed but it was definitely legible. It often surprised nurses, and usually the family members of the patients, when they noticed that she didn't write in the typical way every other doctor they'd ever met did. Clarke was nearly halfway done with filing all of the paperwork she'd allow to pile up the last few days when her pager went off, signaling that her patient had woken up. Surprised, Clarke looked at the time and realized that she had been filling out paperwork for more than an hour but her patient still shouldn't have woken up that quickly post-surgery. Perhaps something went wrong?

Walking briskly down the hallway she came to a stop in front of room 206 and stepped inside to see that her patient had striking green eyes and looked panicked. She was looking around in a controlled manner but her body language came off as very uninviting and stiff, tense and tight muscles. The woman had calculating eyes as she looked around the room as if she feared someone would attack her. Despite the fact that she looked completely calm on the surface, her eyes told a different story and so did her body language and in spite of what the woman who had called said she didn't think it was a random shooting. Someone who had experienced something as traumatizing as being shot wouldn't be nearly as calm, and from Clarke's own experience she would have been much more frantic and terrified of her unknown surroundings unlike this woman.

Something really didn't add up but Clarke wasn't going to judge and she just needed to assure her patient she was safe. "Hello, I see you've woken up. I'm Dr. Griffin, the one who operated on you. We don't have much information on you, just that you are 24 years old and that your name is Lexa from what the person who called an ambulance said. You were just under the influence of anesthesia barely an hour ago so it's a bit of a surprise that you're already awake. Can you hear understand me?"

The woman's gaze was intense and piercing, something that Clarke wished she didn't find so attractive but alas, she did. The woman continued to gaze at her for a moment before nodding her head nearly imperceptibly just once.

It wasn't until that moment that Clarke realized that someone else had also been in the room. "Dr. Griffin, should I leave you to talk to the patient?" Harper asked, an impressed look on her face. She had been in the room with the patient for the last five minutes and couldn't even get her to look at her let alone answer any of the questions she had asked her before Dr. Griffin arrived.

"Harper, thank you for paging me as soon as she woke up. I would like that, thank you." Clarke waited until Harper had left and Clarke was in the room alone with the other woman, still gazing at her alone. It was a bit unnerving to have such a penetrating gaze concentrated solely on her alone. "You received a bullet wound and we got lucky that it went straight through the area between your pancreas and kidney, uh, Lexa. Is it all right if I call you by your first name? We don't have your last name on record and I'm sure that your throat must be dry from the anesthesia. Would you like a cup of water?" Clarke just realized that she hadn't been as accommodating as a doctor should be to her patient's needs.

Grabbing the pitcher that had been left on the table next to Lexa, Clarke noted that there was no water in it and went to fill it in the sink just a few feet away. Returning just as swiftly she poured some into a Styrofoam cup for her patient who accepted it with the softest utterance of "thank you." Lexa as it would turn out had an extremely soft voice, one that sent shivers down Clarke's back and she cursed herself for finding the woman in front of her so highly attractive. It was highly unethical and completely, wholly inappropriate. She was currently her patient so she could not pursue this attraction at all.

"No problem at all. But, uh, as I was saying, it was a bit of a miracle that the bullet managed to completely miss your pancreas and kidney by the slightest bit, perhaps by a mere centimeter or two in both directions." Clarke watched as Lexa gulped down the water, well sipped quickly, and couldn't help but notice the bob of her throat as she did so was also alluring to her. She needed to stop thinking such inappropriate thoughts. She felt entirely unprofessional as she watched the woman set her cup down. "I gave you stitches on both the entrance and exit wounds and it will take weeks, perhaps about two months, for you to fully recover such a serious injury. Do you have any questions for me … um, Lexa?"

"When will I be discharged doctor?" Lexa asked simply, her face was hard to read now that she seemed much more fully awake and more aware of her surroundings. She had her guard up, invisible walls erected to keep anyone from analyzing her. There was something completely different about this woman, something that felt like she had something to hide.

"As soon as you are able to move around without risking undoing your stitches entirely. I expect to have to stitch your stomach wound at least once before you are discharged. I believe I might have to keep you here for the better part of two if not three weeks. Also, I'm sure that you will be asked sooner rather than later for insurance information and perhaps contact information so someone can come visit or pick you up when you're ready to be discharged. We don't have very much information about you as it is and we might need you to fill out a few forms to get everything squared away Miss …"

"Woods, Lexa Woods." Despite how little the other woman spoke, Clarke didn't think it was out of rudeness or dislike of her. At least she didn't think it was because her patient disliked her. She could already tell this was going to be an interesting few weeks.

"Miss Woods. Okay, so if you don't need anything else may I give you a quick check to see how the stitches are holding up? I would also like to get a better look at your vital signs since you shouldn't have woken up so quickly since the anesthesia was supposed to help you stay asleep for at least another few hours to help with the healing process."

She nodded once in assent, "that is fine I suppose."

Clarke had a strange feeling, one that told her that her life was going to take a sudden turn for the interesting after treating this woman and speaking to her. Going through the practiced motion of checking her stitch work before nodding her head in satisfaction, she moved on to checking her pulse, which was normal though just slightly quicker than it should be. She excused that as her mostly concealed feelings of apprehension. Her blood pressure was within normal range but also a bit higher as well. Clarke then took out her stethoscope to check her heartbeat but asked her for permission first. "Would you be alright with me checking your heartbeat under the front and back of this gown? We had to throw away your bloody shirt but we left your pants to be washed and returned to you as soon as possible." Lexa tensed slightly at the mention of her pants and Clarke noticed it right away and wondered why she stiffened up.

"Go ahead then." She truly was a hard woman to read. If Clarke had not been looking at her so intently she was sure she would never have noticed the way her shoulders had tensed the way they had at the mention of her pants. Making a mental note to be the one to inspect her pants, Clarke decided she would check it out herself after she left her patient's room.

"Okay then." Clarke was careful to be as professional as possible and asked her to take deep breaths after she found the spot she was looking for in various areas on both the front and back. She heard something a bit disconcerting in her breathing patterns. "You're having some trouble breathing, aren't you Miss Woods? I can hear a slight hitch with every breath, not quite wheezing but definitely a little hitch."

"Yes but I'm fine. It is probably because I got shot and had to walk for miles to find help." The woman explained vaguely.

"How and why were you shot Miss Woods?"

"It is none of your business Dr. Griffin."

Sighing Clarke closed her eyes before opening them again and Lexa narrowed her eyes at the action, knowing that she was going to be pushed for an answer. "Look, I'm your doctor for right now and I need to know the circumstances of your injury to better understand how to help you heal. This is going to stay confidential between us if it must. I have paperwork I must fill out and you have some you need to fill out as well but it is best if we both know what we're going to write down when it comes time to do so. Your unwillingness to tell me a reason begs for the question of why you are here in the first place, the victim of a gunshot wound. Being that I am your doctor I wish to heal and not harm you even if we don't know each other well." Pausing Clarke could see in the other woman's eyes that she was thinking despite her stoic expression. "So what's it going to be?"

A rather long beat of silence ensued before the smallest of nods and soft words once again left the other woman's mouth. "I was shot in the dark while I was out in the … woods," the irony of her last name being woods was not lost on Clarke and she almost chuckled at the unintentional pun but refrained because of the other woman's serious face. "I was with two others when it occurred and we got separated because I didn't want them to get shot as well. I ended up walking for quite a few miles just to make it to a stranger's house in the early hours of the morning."

Digesting the other woman's story wasn't easy but Clarke had a feeling that some important details were left out but she didn't want to push the other woman further than she already had. The story itself sounded like some parts of the truth but it was obvious she had left something out because of the slightest pause in between her description of being shot and walking to find help for herself. "You don't have a cell phone or any personal belongings with you?"

"No. Maybe I dropped my wallet out in the woods."

Unsure of why, Clarke felt as if the woman was lying about this. Her face remained as stoic as ever and her eyes didn't waiver from her gaze even once but Clarke had a niggling thought in the back of her mind that she was lying. There was just something about the woman's gaze that gave her away without her knowledge. "All right, if that's the story you want to tell me."

Lexa narrowed her eyes at the other woman, not liking that she seemed to know that she wasn't being entirely honest. "Why would I lie to you?"

"The thing is I never said you were lying." Lexa resisted the urge to widen her eyes in shock but Clarke saw the minute shift in her expression that told her what she needed to know. There was definitely more to this story than the gorgeous brunette was willing to tell her.

"You're quite different from any other doctors I've ever had treating me."

"I suppose you can say that I'm an atypical doctor. I will be back to check on you later. We can help you contacting any family members or friends who would like to visit you."

For just a brief moment Clarke thought she saw sorrow gloss those intense, green eyes before she spoke even more softly than ever. "I have no one, no family." This made Clarke's heart ache for the woman lying in the bed. She shouldn't feel this much for someone she had just met and the patient in question was rather hostile when it came to answering questions to do with her reason for being here. Clarke was going to get to the bottom of this and she vowed to visit her charge at least once a day. Obviously only to make sure she was doing okay with the healing process and to check her stitches and for no other reason than that. If Clarke was being honest with herself though, she really just wanted to know more about the enigmatic woman.

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So, here's another chapter for you all! I have been writing this fanfic like crazy so here's an update for all of my lovely reviewers. Please read and leave your thoughts in a review if you want this to be a moderately long fic!;)

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