Me: This is going to be a slightly odd chapter.

Chase: Why's that?

Me: Just watch… or read.

Chase: Huh?

Me: I don't own Trauma Center! You should know that by now! (laughs)

Chase: ….

Note:

KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THIS. THE STORY STARTS AS A FLASHBACK SO
THE LARGE CAPITAL BOLD IS THE END OF FLASHBACK!

oOoOoOo

Trauma Center: Racing Against Time

Chapter 7: Before Disappearing

oOoOoOo

"How was your day at school honey?" a blonde haired woman asked, her celadon eyes
leering at her daughter as she walked into the large house. "Oh fine mother," her daughter
replied, "but the teacher's still a fool. She messed up when we were dissecting the frog."
The mother frowned at her daughter's comment, "You don't call your mentors fools
Angie." Angie, who looked like a smaller clone of her mother, rolled her eyes, "You call
my teachers idiots all the time mom. Why don't you home school me instead?"

This always silenced her mother, who turned away and bit her lip. "You… know I have
no time and your father… your father…" her mother growled and glared up at the ceiling
which was actually a second floor and yelled, "Stays in that damn room!" She huffed and
stomped off towards the kitchen.

The eight year old Angie Blackwell sighed heavily. Everyday it was the same thing. She
would go to school, her teachers would prove as cumbersome as ever, the other students
would spread nasty rumors just because she was better at basically everything (she ended
them quickly though), and then she would come home, somehow (this time purposely)
sending her mother into an fit about her father.

Her father…. Angie gazed at the floor above. Her father, Kenneth Blackwell, was a really
kind and open man a few years ago. He smiled and would take her out into the town,
sometimes to the park or just walk her to school. He was a respected and excellent doctor,
head of the research and development; however that had changed after he received an
unmarked envelope in the mail. He didn't leave that one room nor could anyone get in, he
had locked it from the inside.

Angie pursed her lips in a pouty-like manner as she thought about the actual last time she
had seen him. 'Oh… there was that box that arrived' she remembered, 'I wonder what
was in it. It was awfully small…'
She shrugged her shoulders and started climbing the
stairs, entering her own room, glancing around and sighing with content. The room was
her little haven.

The bulky, black backpack made a loud 'bang!' on contacted with the ground but she
didn't care. All she cared about was finishing her homework now which was, from the
teacher's explanation, way too simple. 'Oh well, I guess it can wait till after dinner then'
she thought, stretching. Angie opened her door and saw her mother at the other end of the
hall, glaring holes into the locked door. 'Oh yea... it's mom's turn to get dad to get his
food…'
she smiled as evilly as she could at her young age and watched the battle between
mom and dad (well… door) commence.

oOoOoOo

Angie looked at her clock as her pencil clicked against her paper. 'Dinner ended at 6 p.m.
and homework is finished before 6:15 p.m.'
she noted, jotting it down in a small book.
She packed her backpack again for Monday, taking off her glasses and setting them on
her bedside table. Friday meant extra sleep and extra time to do what ever she wanted
too.

Nothing came to mind except sleep really… well, that and a yawn. She changed into her
pajamas and turned the lights off, jumping into her bed and falling asleep promptly. She
expected to sleep till 7:00 a.m. but when she was abruptly awoken by a hand shaking her
at 10:50 p.m., she was slightly steamed.

"What's the big idea?" she asked, frowning and rubbing her eyes. Did her dreaming
about her English teacher finally getting fired get her in trouble or something? "Sorry," a
gruff voice said, "but I wanted to know if you could help daddy with something…"
Angie was wide awake at that, noticing through the darkness that her father was kneeling
next to her bed. She had forgotten how tall her father was.

"Sure dad! Just give me a second…" "No Angie… I just want to see your arm," her
father replied quietly. She looked at him like he was insane. "Uh… ok?" she said quietly,
holding an arm out. "You're not scared of shots, right?" he asked, grasping her arm with
one hand lightly. "I'm not as wimpy as those other girls," Angie scoffed. It was the she
realized that her father was holding a needle in his other hand.

There was a slight pinch as the needle went into her arm, the clock striking 11:00 p.m.
out in the hall. "Now," he father spoke quietly, "Don't tell your mother about this, it's a
secret between us." She understood and nodded. Her father let go of her arm and started
to retreat from the room, but then turned back. "If anything seems different… tell me
tomorrow night… ok?" he said. Once again, Angie nodded. Little did she know, her
father would leave later the next day for his 'failed' experiment.

FLASHBACK END

"So…. You're saying that this all happened 16 years ago?" Dr. Stiles asked as Professor
Blackwell ended his story. Blackwell nodded, his head hanging forward, "I didn't think it
would come back… I thought that it was just a failure…" "…It must have been dormant
this whole time," Dr. Kimishima said, "That would explain why, even after the GUILT
outbreak, she was never infected."

"But that could be any reason. Some of us weren't infected," Chase argued. "But she did
have odd recovery times," Stiles intervened, "I mean, when we were killing Savato, the
webs kept making the scalpel melt. We were both nervous, so I wouldn't have been
surprised if she cut herself in the scalpel box." "I don't even remember her getting a cold
even…" Cybil tapped her chin lightly. "Did she ever get sick at Hope?" "No… now that
you mention it…," Stiles answered.

"Well… this clears up a few things," Victor remarked, causing everyone to look at him.
"What do you mean Victor?" Dr. Clarks asked, having been practically silent the whole
time. Victor smirked, "Well… Blackwell can remember when he made the GUILT so he
can remember HOW he made it." "That means…" Stiles nodded, "You can make a serum
to kill it!"

"I wish it could be that simple," Victor snorted. Cybil nodded in agreement, "Angie is no
longer under our jurisdiction. We could get in trouble for doing this." A fist slammed into
the table and everyone jumped, eyes turning towards Dr. Stiles. "I don't care," he
growled, "I will save Angie even if it costs me my license! She's not becoming a test
subject!"

Silence fell in the room from his outburst.

Chase smiled, "Waiting for you to say that Derek! I'll help in any way!" "Me too!" Leslie
chirped, "Angie might be younger than me, but she is a respectable nurse and doesn't
deserve this." "…. Fine," Victor sighed, "I'll help make a serum, but only if Blackwell
will clarify how he made it." "I want to see my daughter get married and have kids now,"
Blackwell grinned weakly, "Of course I'll help."

Cybil stood up and walked towards the door. "Huh? Cybil?" Chase asked, staring at her.
"What? I can't get the anesthesia ready or the OR?" she replied, her lips curving into a
smile. "Oh… good point," Chase chuckled. Dr. Kimishima listened to the whole
conversation, leaning against the wall. "Now I understand why Miller was interested,"
she muttered, "If a GUILT strand like this could be made, then all diseases could be
dodged at the exception of a short life and a painful death… oh, it's not right though."

"Dr. Kimishima?" she looked up and saw everyone looking at her. "Yes?" she asked.
"Do you mind helping with the operation?" Stiles looked down on the floor, "I just want
to be very careful…" "Of course Stiles," she replied, before smirking and adding, "I'll
make sure your girlfriend will make a full recovery." Stiles face turned red, "She's not
my girlfriend…" "Oh, after this, you might see that differently," Dr. Kimishima mumbled
and laughed. "You guys better get to it," Dr. Clarks said, "The escorts might be here
later. I'll try to keep Kasal and everyone off your plan."

"Right, thanks Clarks," Stiles grinned. Dr. Clarks nodded and walked out of the room
quickly. "Well, we know what to do now," Stiles continued, "Let's begin the operation!"
From around the corner, a familiar old man heard this, and began to this accordingly.

oOoOoOo

Me: (staring at her ring)

Chase: What are you doing?

Me: Staring at my dolphin ring. It kinda looks like Deftera only backwards.

Chase: (looks) Now that you mention it, it does. Creepy…

Me: I thought it was cool…

Chase: It's cool to have a GUILT ring?

Me: If you say it like that, it sounds bad!

Chase: True…

Me: Oh yeah! It's time for the battle against the GUILT anyway!

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