Disclaimer:
The characters of Spider-Man do not belong to me and I do not make any profit by using them in my fanfics.
Author's Note:
Several people told me (thank you so much for the reviews, btw) that I should put more columns in my stories and separate the dialogues.
I intend to do that as soon as I can. At the moment I am editing all the stories I uploaded in the past few days one after the other.
It will take me some time but I will eventually replace the recent stories by properly formatted ones. I just put them online, so I could work on them not only from home.
Please let me know as well, if you find mistakes in spelling and grammar (I'm not native speaker/writer) or if there is something with the plot...
So I hope you can forgive me ( !
Mental (working title, unfinished & unedited)
part 1
Dr. Claire Dawson did not like lost causes. Every time a patient of hers had died, a little part of herself had gone missing as well.
Her colleagues, especially Dr. Jackson Carter, would always remind her, that building up a personal relationship to charges was not professional.
Dr. Carter claimed, that she would finally go insane because of the minor influence she had on fate.
Claire shook her head remembering this nasty occasion when the older man had tried to talk some sense into her. They had totally different opinions on that behalf and Claire knew, that hers was the right one for her. Because with every loss she was reminded of not only the possibilities but also of the duties and responsibilities, that went with her profession.
A great number of her colleagues, especially the older staff members, had long ago lost their illusions. They were merely doing their job and refusing to have emotions while doing that.
Last week one of the doctors had almost lost a patient, because he would not give him a chance of survival. Claire had been shocked, because in her opinion there was always a chance of survival, as long as the patient was not dead already.
She had argued with the doctor, demanded that he would try whatever was in his power, to save this life, even if in the end there might be only death.
The doctor had only shook his head and arrogantly told her off, for not being rational. Fuming Claire had ordered the staff to prepare the emergency room and had started a thorough examination herself.
She had almost agreed with the other doctor, when she saw the major damage the bullets had caused. But after she had stopped or merely minimised the patients loss of blood, his vitals had steadied themselves.
Two hours and countless blood reserves later, she had finished the surgery. The patient lived and in a couple of weeks he would leave the hospital on his own feet, fully recovered.
Her shift was nearly over, she realised as she looked at the tiny clock behind the counter. She was glad that she had not been assigned to the emergency crew today.
Her nerves were on overdrive, since her mother had chosen this very weekend to pay her a visit. The first one after more than five years. After twentythree years of forced unity Claire had happily taken the offered position as assistant doctor at the New York St. John Hospital.
She had only then found out, what freedom really meant. Her mother had controlled her life from birth to exam. And the Claire had left for good, never intending to return. And she would not.
Her mother had lost her third husband in a car crash. Claire had never had what one would call a relationship to her second step-father. She did not care. Everyone, who could live with her psychotic mother had to be psychotic as well....
"Caution, another emergency comes in. Seemingly an attempted murder by shooting. Patient is not stable, has been revived several times during the transport. He will need immediate surgery."
Nurse Allison, one of the youngest staff members, came running down the corridor. She rushed past Claire and was nearly out of the door leading to the ICU, when she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and shot Claire a questioning glare.
"Aren't you coming?"
She asked. Claire blushed and returned the glare.
"I'm not scheduled."
Claire put her smock back on, for she already had changed back into her private clothes. She cursed herself, because she sounded like one of her disillusioned colleagues.
Nurse Allison cast her an annoyed glare.
"Never mind."
Claire called and followed the nurse into the ER, where the rest of the crew was already waiting for a doctor. Seemingly none of her colleagues was available at present.
Over the speakers they received the message that the ambulance had arrived at the hospital and the patient was on his way towards the ER. Since everything was ready to start the examination all they had to do was to wait. For now.
tbc
The characters of Spider-Man do not belong to me and I do not make any profit by using them in my fanfics.
Author's Note:
Several people told me (thank you so much for the reviews, btw) that I should put more columns in my stories and separate the dialogues.
I intend to do that as soon as I can. At the moment I am editing all the stories I uploaded in the past few days one after the other.
It will take me some time but I will eventually replace the recent stories by properly formatted ones. I just put them online, so I could work on them not only from home.
Please let me know as well, if you find mistakes in spelling and grammar (I'm not native speaker/writer) or if there is something with the plot...
So I hope you can forgive me ( !
Mental (working title, unfinished & unedited)
part 1
Dr. Claire Dawson did not like lost causes. Every time a patient of hers had died, a little part of herself had gone missing as well.
Her colleagues, especially Dr. Jackson Carter, would always remind her, that building up a personal relationship to charges was not professional.
Dr. Carter claimed, that she would finally go insane because of the minor influence she had on fate.
Claire shook her head remembering this nasty occasion when the older man had tried to talk some sense into her. They had totally different opinions on that behalf and Claire knew, that hers was the right one for her. Because with every loss she was reminded of not only the possibilities but also of the duties and responsibilities, that went with her profession.
A great number of her colleagues, especially the older staff members, had long ago lost their illusions. They were merely doing their job and refusing to have emotions while doing that.
Last week one of the doctors had almost lost a patient, because he would not give him a chance of survival. Claire had been shocked, because in her opinion there was always a chance of survival, as long as the patient was not dead already.
She had argued with the doctor, demanded that he would try whatever was in his power, to save this life, even if in the end there might be only death.
The doctor had only shook his head and arrogantly told her off, for not being rational. Fuming Claire had ordered the staff to prepare the emergency room and had started a thorough examination herself.
She had almost agreed with the other doctor, when she saw the major damage the bullets had caused. But after she had stopped or merely minimised the patients loss of blood, his vitals had steadied themselves.
Two hours and countless blood reserves later, she had finished the surgery. The patient lived and in a couple of weeks he would leave the hospital on his own feet, fully recovered.
Her shift was nearly over, she realised as she looked at the tiny clock behind the counter. She was glad that she had not been assigned to the emergency crew today.
Her nerves were on overdrive, since her mother had chosen this very weekend to pay her a visit. The first one after more than five years. After twentythree years of forced unity Claire had happily taken the offered position as assistant doctor at the New York St. John Hospital.
She had only then found out, what freedom really meant. Her mother had controlled her life from birth to exam. And the Claire had left for good, never intending to return. And she would not.
Her mother had lost her third husband in a car crash. Claire had never had what one would call a relationship to her second step-father. She did not care. Everyone, who could live with her psychotic mother had to be psychotic as well....
"Caution, another emergency comes in. Seemingly an attempted murder by shooting. Patient is not stable, has been revived several times during the transport. He will need immediate surgery."
Nurse Allison, one of the youngest staff members, came running down the corridor. She rushed past Claire and was nearly out of the door leading to the ICU, when she stopped dead in her tracks. She turned and shot Claire a questioning glare.
"Aren't you coming?"
She asked. Claire blushed and returned the glare.
"I'm not scheduled."
Claire put her smock back on, for she already had changed back into her private clothes. She cursed herself, because she sounded like one of her disillusioned colleagues.
Nurse Allison cast her an annoyed glare.
"Never mind."
Claire called and followed the nurse into the ER, where the rest of the crew was already waiting for a doctor. Seemingly none of her colleagues was available at present.
Over the speakers they received the message that the ambulance had arrived at the hospital and the patient was on his way towards the ER. Since everything was ready to start the examination all they had to do was to wait. For now.
tbc
