A/N: Okay, I have no clue how the hospital would check for what blood type you are so I am completely making up the first test. I did some research on blood types but couldn't find how they test for them. I should have Asked Jeeves but I'm too lazy.

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"Welcome to St. Mary's. Please fill out these forms and wait until your name is called."

Greg smiled at the woman and started filling the forms out but stopped abruptly when it asked for his blood type. He completely forgot.

"Mr. Sanders?" A nurse walked in and looked around quizzically. Greg stood up and walked over to her and said, "I don't remember what my blood type is."

She looked him up and down and said, "We can do a quick test. Follow me."

She lead him to a room where another, way more stoic and frightening-looking, nurse stood, needle at the ready, already in the groove of another blood drive. Greg entered, studied the situation briefly, and his smile slid away from his face as she said, "Hello, Mr. Sanders. How old are you?"

Greg stood at attention: "27."

"Have you done any drugs, including medication, within the past 72 hours?"

"No."

"What is your blood type?"

"Um... I don't really remember." He decided to attempt a joke: "I'm pretty sure it's a letter."

The two nurses looked at him in a bored way and Greg cleared his throat and said, "Okay, maybe you've heard that one before."

They led him to the chair and swabbed his arm with alcohol. They first drew a small amount of blood and said, "We'll be right back, Mr. Sanders."

He smiled and nodded and they disappeared.

A large amount of time went by, or maybe it wasn't, Greg didn't know because all he could do is stare at the wall helpfully. They came back with strange smiles on their faces.

"What?" Greg asked, then considered making a joke about vampires, then dismissed it.

"Mr. Sanders, we tested your blood."

"Oh," Greg said intelligently.

"You have AB negative," They paused and looked at him.

"Oh. My bad?" Greg said, questioning, "I wasn't really aware I was going to be graded on this..."

"No, on the contrary Mr. Sanders. That is a very rare blood type. Not very many people have it, and not very many people donate it. We would like to extend our thanks."

"No problem," Greg said. It's not like he did it on purpose.

They tied him off and he slowly watched his valuable blood drain out of him while corny elevator music played in the background.

He finally finished, they thanked him again, and they left him to find his own way out. Not really having anything better to do, he wandered around the hospital.

Not like other people, the hospital never really gave him the jitters. He merely thought of them as a doorway for life, or death, depending on how you looked at it.

He passed a room and looked through the window on the door and saw a woman lying on the bed. Unlike the other rooms he had passed, hers wasn't decorated with Get Well balloons and flowers. Hers was desolate, and she looked empty. Just like him...

Before he could even think about what he was doing, he walked inside.


"CALVIN! STOP RUNNING THROUGH THE HOUSE LIKE A MANIAC!"
(Calvin continues to run through the house.)
"CALVIN! What did I just tell you?"
"Beats me. You weren't listening either?"
-Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson