EMERGENCY ROOM: CRITICAL CONDITION

Ara sat down on the doctor's bench, waiting for her diagnosis. She had been feeling a little under the weather recently, and had finally decided to go get checked out.

The doctor re-entered the room, sitting down in his chair with a serious expression on his face. "Miss Haan?" Ara nodded warily. The doctor let out a heavy sigh, removing his glasses. "You have a cold."

Ara let out a sigh of relief. God, he was making her nervous with all of the -

"We expect that you only have three more months left to live if we don't operate immediately."

Eyes wide, she stared at the doctor. Was she on Punk'd or something? Was Ashton Kutcher hiding under the table, waiting for the right moment to jump out and yell 'Surprise!' and scare her out of her wits?

"We're truly sorry to have to tell you the bad news."

Nope. No Aston Kutcher.

Ara fainted.

Aren stood outside of the hospital, impatiently waiting for the results of his sister's sudden operation, a cup of warm coffee in his hands. A few feet away, a homeless man with blond hair and blue eyes stared at him. Aren stared back, wondering what the problem was. A sleek black car pulled up beside him, the door opening and revealing an impeccably dressed man, distracting him from the homeless man.

His father.

"Aren," his father said, head inclined. "Is Ara doing alright?"

Aren sighed heavily, taking a quick sip of his hot drink. "I'm waiting to figure out. Are you worried about her?"

His father nodded, reaching into his pocket. "Of course I am. I'm her father. Aren, I can't thank you enough for taking care Ara for me all these years." Pulling out his wallet, his father pulled out a thick wad of bills. "Please, take this. As a thank you."

Aren retreated, hands up, eyes blown wide in shock. "Father! I couldn't; you work so hard for this money! Keep it!"

His father shook his head, holding out the money and moving it closer, as if hoping to entice Aren. "Take it."

"I can't."

"Take it!"

"I can't!"

"Take it," Aren's father said more firmly. "Don't you want to know about your mother?" Aren suddenly dropped his coffee.

"My mother...? Who's sick and has been in the hospital for almost all of my life?"

"Yes," his father said. "Your mother..."

"My mother..."

"Is... healthy now. She got better!"

Aren breathed out a sigh of relief, before a look of confusion crossed his face as he stared at the spilled coffee, then at his father.

"Aren?" His father said, slowly moving closer.

"Who are you?"

Ara's eyes were closed peacefully, as if she were sleeping. They snapped open the instant the operation doors opened, however. A redheaded surgeon smiled down at her, his purple-haired assistant standing beside him.

"Relax, we're professionals. We know what we're doing."

Ara nodded, watching with slight apprehension as the assistant picked up a tray with trembling hands. The surgeon, seemingly noticing, nudged her gently. "You're making the patient nervous, Aisha. You shouldn't be this nervous, anyways. Here, pass me the tray." The trembling assistant nodded, attempting to calm her nerves.

"Yes, Dr. Sieghart." She handed him the tray.

His hands shook more, sending things flying off and clattering to the ground.

Ara gulped nervously, her heart monitor flaring.

"Relax, we're professionals."

Somehow that was not comforting.

Suddenly, Ara's heart gave up, her heart monitor going flat. The surgeon, Dr. Sieghart, threw the tray over his shoulder, eyes wide. "She's in V-fib! Quick! Get the AED!"

The assistant, Aisha nodded. "Her body's gone into acute shock due to a rapid loss in blood pressure, creating hypotension and possible an aneurysm in the -" Dr. Sieghart cut her off, waving his hand impatiently.

"It's bad, we get it! Go get the AED!"

Aisha shrieked in surprise, running off. Dr. Sieghart turned back to Ara's flailing body. "Stay with me now, stay with me!"

Returning with the defibrillation paddles, Aisha handed them to the surgeon and turned on the power source. "120! Clear!"

Shock.

Nothing happened. Dr. Sieghart grit his teeth, raising the paddles again. "200!" Aisha turned up the electricity. "Clear!"

Shock.

Again, nothing. Staring at the paddles, Dr. Sieghart raised them once more. "Uh... 2,000!"

Aisha screeched, knocking over a tool table set up a little too close to her. "What?!"

Dr. Sieghart nodded, confirming his decision. "2,000! Let's go!" Aisha hesitantly turned up the electricity. "Clear!"

Aren stared, face pale, at the slobbering, sobbing man that he did not know at all at his feet.

The man sniffled, whining some more. "A-Aren..."

Aren took a step back. And another. And another. And - nope, moving forwards, he was getting way too close to the blond homeless man for comfort. Why was he still there, anyways? "I, uh, really don't know... Um, how do you know me? What are you doing?"

Whining-sobfest on the ground wailed again. "Aren...!"

Aren nodded brusquely. "Yup, I'm officially weirded out. Time to go."

The man shot up, before clutching his heart and releasing the single most terrifying sound Aren had ever heard in his entire lifetime. He'd be damned if that didn't haunt all of his nightmares from this moment on. The man writhed, flailed, then fell still, his breath heavily laboured.

Then Aren remembered.

Oh my god.

"Dad!"

When Ara finally opened her eyes, she was not expecting to see her surgeon and his assistant arguing with each other.

"I told you! That was too much! It was going to kill her!"

Wait, kill her? What?

"But it didn't! Seriously, it's fine! She's fine now!"

"But she nearly died!"

Wait, nearly died? Her?

"But she didn't so it's okay! Gosh, stop ruining this moment."

"But she nearly died!"

Sitting up with a startling amount of ease for someone just operated on, Ara interrupted the duo. "Have you seen my brother?"

Aisha shook her head. "No, I haven't. But I did see him hanging around outside instead of coming inside like a normal person. Try looking for him there."

Ara nodded, standing up easily despite the - wait, what did they even operate on in the first place?

Eh, whatever. It probably wasn't important anyways.

"Doctor! I need a doctor! Please, someone save my dad!" Aren wasn't sure why he was screaming for a doctor when he was quite literally standing in front of a hospital, but he chalked it up to tension and dramatic effect.

Theatrics. Nasty thing.

The homeless blond man stood up, throwing his cardboard sign dramatically. "I'M A DOCTOR!"

Aren stared at him.

He stared back.

"Well, I was until the medical accident."

Aren shook his head, beckoning the homeless doctor closer. "Doctor, can you save him?"

The blond stared at Aren's fallen father pensively. "You should prepare for the worst."

Aren cringed. Oh, the clichés.

"I've tried my best. You should've come earlier."

Before Aren could do anything, Ara stormed out of the hospital, a look of pure shock overcoming her delicate features as she stared at her father, Aren, and the homeless man. "Aren, why are you here? Why... why is dad on the ground?"

No one moved for a moment, letting awkward silence hang over them. The silence was broken by their father, who started coughing violently, hand grasping at the air. "My child..." He rasped, reaching out as Aren and Ara crowded around him.

"Dad, are you okay?!"

Sitting up slowly, their father began to reach into his coat pocket. "Aren, Ara... I have nothing to offer you but..." Grabbing the mysterious object, their father pulled a large bottle of shampoo out of the inner pocket, gently handing it over to Aren. "...my precious shampoo."

Aren held the shampoo up to the light, staring at the pink-and-gold bottle in childish wonder. "Is this... is this the shampoo approved by the FDA?"

Ara piped in, grabbing the bottle from Aren, turning it in her hands with awe. "The shampoo made of organic Argan oil that prevents hair splitting?" She turned to their father. "Dad, why are you giving us this so suddenly?"

He coughed into his hands, sitting up a little straighter. "Find your long-lost brother, my children. Use this shampoo as evidence."

Aren stared at him, eyes wide with shock. "What?"

Their father nodded again. "Yes... Your brother holds the conditioner..." With that, he exhaled heavily, eyes closing as he passed away from this world.

"Brother... I have a brother?" Aren said, hands trembling. The homeless man turned to the duo slowly, lifting a matching bottle of conditioner into the air at an equally slow pace.

"Brother... Sister?"

They faced each other - as siblings - for the first time, speaking in unison with joyous grins splitting their faces. "If used together, they provide total hair treatment!"

Bodies crashed together in a tight hug, and for once, they felt not so alone.

- END -

Glave shook his head in amusement, watching as the portal collapsed in on itself, collecting his cube filled with, oddly enough, shampoo and conditioner. "So this is not the story you seek, is it?"

Tucking the cube away in the breast pocket of his undercoat, he pondered his next move carefully, slowly selecting one of the remaining two cubes and crushing it deftly with the flick of his wrist.

"Perhaps this one will please you more."

The portal unfolded, revealing a dusty, reddened world filled with battered wooden buildings on either side of the dust street. A tumbleweed blew by in the invisible wind, drifting aimlessly.

"The wild, wild West," Glave muttered, almost to himself, but his golden eye shining knowingly said otherwise.

"Let the show begin."

[A/N:]

I am officially screwed up in the head. And making fun of PPLs (product placements) is surprisingly more fun than I thought.