In which someone is struck by lightning.
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" shouted the paramedics as they rushed the stretcher from the ambulance into hospital. Almost immediately the entourage was swarmed by the waiting team of doctors and nurses.
"Give us the rundown."
"John Doe, Asian descent, mid-thirties; found unconscious outside an office building after being struck by lightning. Patient has suffered severe third degree burns to the chest, arm and leg. BP is 80/40 and dropping."
"Someone page cardio!"
"My God, what happened to his face? Was that the lightning?"
"Don't think so. Old scar tissue."
"Wait…shit! I recognize that guy!" said one of the nurses. "It's Zuko Roiyaru!"
"This is Ozai's kid? Shit."
"'Shit' is right," said a grimacing woman in a gray suit, who fell in step with the patient caravan.
"With all due respect Chief Beifong, this isn't an ortho problem."
"No, but this is a problem. Keep this as quiet as possible. Call security, and make sure we get extra people monitoring the cams. Don't call the police. We've had enough trouble with triad members or people associated with them and I don't need this place turning into a shooting gallery."
"You're worried about dirty cops?"
"You're damn right I'm worried about dirty cops! I've had three goddamn patients assassinated by pigshits during my tenure as chief of surgery. I'm not having a fourth.'' Her face softened. "Besides, I know this kid. He's a good person and prefers not to be associated with his father. Probably hates him more than anyone else in this city. But that won't stop some prick from taking advantage of that relationship to try and make Ozai lose face. And even though the bastard cares jack shit about what happens to Zuko, he'll still use it as an excuse to make the current gang war even bloodier." Toph's face darkened. "And I will not bring that shit down on my hospital. Did you page cardio?"
"Yes, chief. Dr. Adlet's on her way."
(***)
When Zuko opened his eyes and looked around the room, he immediately noticed three things.
One, he was still alive.
Two, that there was a massive scar on his chest.
Three, DEAR GOD EVERYTHING HURT LIKE HELL. But he was still alive.
Four, his arm and leg were wrapped up like a mummy.
Five, DEAR GOD EVERYTHING HURT LIKE HELL.
"Mr. Roiyaru? Can you hear me?" said a voice to his left. He turned his head to see the speaker.
His mouth fell open slightly.
Six, the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen in his life was standing next to his bed. He nearly mistook her for a nurse before he saw the nametag on her scrubs. "Katara Adlet, M.D., F.A.C.S., Department of Cardiology."
Wow, thought Zuko.
Katara, for her part, couldn't help but stare at Zuko's golden eyes. I've never seen eyes like his before…they're…beautiful. Then she remembered who and what he was. Get a grip, woman. He's a patient. And the son of an infamous crime lord. You're a doctor. And you're engaged. Focus on the job.
"We had to keep you sedated for a little while longer. It was just about time for you to come out of it, so I came in to see how you were doing," said Katara.
"Um…" began Zuko.
"Do you remember what happened?" said the doctor.
"I had forgotten my umbrella in the car, as usual…and I got held up by that prick from mailroom – Jet's his name; he's a real asshole…so by the time I got to the parking lot it was really coming down. And then the air smelled funny and the next thing I know I'm…here."
"You were struck by lightning, sir."
I'll say, thought Zuko, eyeing the lovely creature before him.
"Your heart sustained a fair amount of damage from the strike, particularly to the fibers controlling your valves. Fortunately," she said with a grin, "I'm one of the top cardiothoracic surgeons in the region and I was able to repair the affected areas. We'll have to keep you here for observation, hopefully no more than a week or so. And if we're lucky this won't induce any heart problems further down the line." She paused. "We had plastics take a look at your burns; there's minimal muscle damage and nothing looks necrotic, so we'll keep it covered for the time being and once you've had some more recovery time we can see about getting you some skin grafts." She hesitated. "We can also see about-"
"No," said Zuko firmly, "the face mark stays." He paused and swallowed. "Have you contacted anyone about my being here?"
"No," said Katara, hesistantly. "Normally we would've called a family member or some other person of interest but we thought it…prudent given who you…" She lamely waved her hand at him. "We thought we'd keep this quiet for the time being."
"Is that why the security dudes are there?" asked Zuko.
Katara glanced at the door where two white-shirted guards stood vigil. "Orders of Dr. Beifong, our chief of surgery. For your protection, not ours."
Zuko closed his eyes and sighed. "Thank you. I appreciate that." He opened them again. "There is someone you can call, though. I have an uncle – someone I trust. He lives in Italy now for…a number of reasons." He gave her the number.
"Thank you, Mr. Roiyaru," she said scribbling the contact information down on her prescription pad. "I'm going to have the nurses come by in about ten minutes or so to do a workup and give us a better idea of how you're doing." She fidgeted slightly. "I hate to leave so soon, but I have to do final pre-op check for a lung transplant surgery. I'll see you later Mr. Roiyaru."
As she turned to walk away, Zuko reached out (ah, shit, that hurts!) and grabbed her hand.
A jolt went through both of them.
"Dr. Ad- Katara," began Zuko. "Thank you. For saving my life."
"…you're welcome Mr. Roiyaru," replied Katara, who was beating down a blush and unsure why she had to do so.
"Please, call me Zuko."
"Alright. I'll see you later…Zuko."
