"Blake, she's asking for you again,"
Groaning, she set down her chart on the emergency room front desk and made her way to the pit with Weiss walking briskly in front of her. They were running the ER that busy Thursday night, ambulances coming every few minutes with another patient to fuss over. Blake was much too busy, and much too tired to deal with her tonight.
"This is the third time this month, I can't believe she hasn't died yet," Blake complained, weaving through the traffic of the busy hallways. "I might actually kill her myself this time, I'll say it's to allocate resources. That's what they get for only putting two residents on the pit for the entire night shift."
Weiss didn't spare her a smile and continued along their path. "For the amount of times you mention inflicting bodily harm to a patient everyday, I can't imagine how you got into medical school. Much less internship" she responded, slowing down her pace as they arrived.
She nodded to a trauma room where a few nurses and doctors were badgering over a patient that they were clearly ready to get rid of, judging by the faces of the nurses that passed them leaving the room. Blake was painfully aware at the directed stares she was getting from the staff leaving the room and muttered some half-energied apologies. Ready to just get it over with, she went to step in with as much determination and politeness that she could muster before Weiss put an arm up to stop her.
Weiss glared at her, long enough that Blake let out a few nervous chuckles. "Please, can you keep her out for good this time? Or at least give her your pager, I don't want to see that shit eating grin ever again,"
Blake managed a weak smile, trying to escape from her friend's tired and icy glare. Despite being 20 hours into their shift, Weiss still managed to keep her ironed scrubs pristine. Not even since getting chief resident, she always managed to look the most put together out of all of their year, a far cry from the state that Sun dragged himself into the hospital in every morning.
"I'll try," Blake manages, trying to convince herself as much as Weiss. "She clearly doesn't take no for an answer, or any hospital bill at least. And let me remind you that you're not the one that gets dragged in to stitch her up or set her shoulder every time."
Weiss just rolled her eyes in response before she walked away with her lab coat rustling behind her.
Blake pushed her way through the door past some remaining nurses and greeted the doctor treating the patient. The older man nodded, getting up from the small stool beside the table that the patient was half-lying down on. He gestured to the small trolley of tools and vials as he placed his stethoscope back over his neck. "She's mostly done, just stitch up the larger lacerations on the forehead. There might be some debris on her hands that need to be looked at, other than that, discharge her once you're done."
The doctor left the room to the two and the door fell shut, leaving Blake to sigh as she saw an unfortunately, very familiar face. That said, the face in question was smiling much too hard for the injuries, however superficial, they were.
"Hey gorgeous, fancy seeing you on this fine evening,"
"Yang, I swear the next time I see you I'll kill you."
The blonde laughed before wincing in pain, shooting an arm instinctively to the gash on her forehead. Despite the splashes of blood and dust on her dark brown leather jacket, the girl seemed to have escaped relatively unscathed from whatever put her here.
Yang watched as Blake turned away from her and rummaged through some cabinets and pulled on some gloves. "Oh come on, I thought you doctors were supposed to swear an oath or whatnot, to do no harm or some other smart person garbage."
Blake pulled a rolling tray towards her and filled a needle from a small vial before pulling the rolling stool under her. The blonde winced slightly as she dabbed at the wound gently with some gauze and administered some local anesthesia around the gash on her forehead. She inspected it carefully, nudging Yang's head left and right with some gentle pressure.
"Well, I think they'd understand in this situation," she says after having a good look at the wound. Pulling at a new package of sutures with her forceps, she tilted Yang's head slightly towards her, a move that unfortunately gave her a clear view of whatever reaction her patient was making. "They might take a swing at you too if they met you."
The wound wasn't too deep, something that she's seen close to a hundred times now that she was in her fourth year of residency. To think about it, Yang was probably 20 of them. Sun was maybe 4.
Stitching was slow, as it always was around the face and neck as they tried to minimize scarring as much as possible. 10 minutes passed in a blink of an eye until half of the gash was closed, and Blake was dreadfully aware of the clock ticking while trying to ignore how obvious the girl she was stitching was staring at her. She looked down from her work and glared at her. "If you don't want a scar, it would be helpful if you would stop staring at me." Blake said, not trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.
Yang flashed a crooked smile, clearly ignoring her tone. "Do you find scars hot? If yes, please do."
Blake had to pull away completely from her wound to calm herself after that one. Patience is a virtue, one that this girl is seemingly set on testing again and again. She moved to stand up, setting her tools down which clattered on the metal surface. "Alright, I think I've humoured you enough for a lifetime, please wait patiently while I find another doctor to assist you."
"Wait, no!" Yang butted in quickly, grabbed at Blake's wrist before she could get up, "I'm sorry, I promise to behave."
Blake stared at her for a few seconds, measuring how much patience she has left as her eyes narrowed. Better finish these stitches and pull another resident on an almost finished case.
Yang kept to her word, sitting in silence as Blake finished her work. She absently twiddled on her thumbs as she waited for her to finish, rummaging through her pockets, straightening her collar. It seemed like this vow of silence was actively causing her pain by the way she was fidgeting.
It felt like an eternity before the last stitch was put in place. "Alright, okay, I'm done. Once I dress it you can leave." Blake sighed in exhaustion, setting her tools down and wiping away some droplets of blood that remained on the girl's wound. She taped down a rectangular bandage that covered the injury neatly.
"By the sheer number of times you've been here, I'm sure you already know the drill. Have a good night, Ms. Xiao Long."
"Wait, hold on-" Yang said, trying to get up after her. She stumbled on some equipment, flailing her arms out trying to catch herself. Blake quickly caught her before she could fall, hiding her surprise at Yang's height. She's always seen her lying or sitting on a stretcher, never standing straight in front of her. The girl was easily half a foot taller than her, arms muscular and firm beneath Blake's hands where she steadied her. Blake actively decided to pretend she didn't notice that last fact.
"Sorry, I must still be dizzy from the accident, or maybe it's whatever you stuck into my face with the needle earlier."
Blake led her back to the table, allowing her to sit down. Yang chuckled awkwardly as she let herself be moved, jamming her bruised up hands into her coat pockets.
"Hold on, can you take your hands back out for me?" Blake asked, taking them gently when the girl took them out curiously. Bruises covered her knuckles and dotted her wrists the more she rolled up her sleeve.
"Oh, my hands are fine, they're just a bit bruised and sore." Yang said, taking them back to inspect them herself. She pulled her hands into fists and flexed them out a few times. "This is much better after the last time, I got thicker gloves this time."
"Well if you're fine, then we're done here. You can talk to the nurses station and they'll process you, maybe get you a cold compress for those bruises." Blake says, pulling off her gloves and throwing them in the waste bin.
Yang watched as she started to pack things up, waiting for a chance to jump in. "There's got to be a way I can repay you, for all these incidents."
Blake stared deadpanned at her. "You do realize this is my job, right?"
Yang pretended like she didn't hear her at all, confidence returning after her less than graceful trip. "How about I take you out to dinner? I promise I'm much hotter when I'm not covered in dirt and blood." She grinned, earning her a sigh only a resident that's been awake for 20 hours could let out.
Blake scribbled some numbers and times on her chart, letting the proposition hang in the air for a few seconds before she lowered the papers. "Will it keep you out of this god damn hospital and out of these stupid accidents?"
Yang laughed, "I can't promise that, but maybe dinner and drinks could sweeten the deal."
Blake turned for the door, having exhausted all the energy she could muster to deal with the ER regular. "Sure, whatever, I don't care. Just, don't crash your motorcycle again, or get in a fight, or crash an airplane for all I care"
"I'll pick you up at 5 tomorrow, right here, baby!" Yang called out after her as Blake walked away like a zombie back into the pit, intent on trying to pretend she doesn't exist for the rest of the night. If she pretended like everyone wasn't staring at her after Yang's shouting, they didn't exist. Not for now, at least.
Weiss stared at her strangely from the front desk, watching Yang do some sort of victory dance as soon as Blake left the vicinity of the procedure room behind her. The girl slammed her hand on the counter while jumping around, loud enough for patients in other rooms to turn in her direction. Weiss pretended to not see the girl squat on the floor clutching her already bruised hand in pain and turned towards Blake as she approached. She handed Yang's chart to the nurse and let her head hit the desk audibly.
"Looks like she finally got to you, guess you finally gave in." Weiss remarked, with a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips. Her eyes were still stuck following Yang as she talked to her.
Blake turned her head to stare as menacingly at her as much as her exhausted form could muster. "No, Weiss, actually I'm the one winning. This is the face of victory, this is winning."
"Uh, sure," Weiss responded, staring as Yang had seemingly recovered and disappeared from the procedure room. She was walking around the ER floor animatedly, happily shaking the hand of anyone around her as if on her own little victory lap. She even bent down to shake a child's hand. His entire body shook at the force of it and stumbled away disoriented after she moved on to an innocent nurse beside her. Blake was fortunately oblivious to the ruckus that Yang was making behind her, head still glued to the nurses station desk.
Weiss regarded her with growing distaste as she noticed the dark circles around her eyes and disheveled hair, about to make a very pointed comment on it before a tall figure approached from the OR wing. Sun was crunching on an apple as he looked from Weiss, to Blake's limp form as he arrived. "What's with her?"
Weiss gestured behind him, careful not to mention anything to Blake. He turned around to watch Yang being escorted out of the hospital by two security guards, grinning like an idiot. He let out a snicker that was quickly cut short at Weiss's glare. Blake seemed to have lost all consciousness by now.
Weiss and Sun both looked up as some paramedics pushed through the ambulance bay with a patient on a stretcher. The lead trauma doctor on call, Robyn, sprung into action as they passed her and beckoned towards the three residents.
"Weiss, Sun, get on this, now." Weiss shot Blake an apologetic look as she looked up and around dazed before quickly following Sun and the team of doctors into a trauma room. As the door shut behind them, a peace fell over the usually chaotic room. A more or less silence that was enough for Blake to let her eyes close just for a second. At least, until they shot back open at the sound of an unfortunately, very familiar rev of a motorcycle engine.
Blake dropped her face into her hands, letting out a long sigh. The wailing of an ambulance siren could be heard from the ambulance bay again, signaling for another patient to assess, the 14th one that night. She begrudgingly pushed herself away from the desk and made her way to the doors, trying to shake the looming sensation of doom that had settled on her shoulders. What has she gotten herself into this time.