The Christians worship Jesus Christ the messiah. The ancient greeks worshipped gods and goddesses with shrines, feasts and celebrations. The followers of Buddhism worship and respect Buddha. Muggles worship their internet and personal electronic devices. Society more often than not, find themselves falling into the temptation of modern idolatry. Healers...they worship life and death. Why do people find a need to idolize in something? Sin is the simple answer. A more in depth answer can cause controversy among many. The simple answer is that society needs to believe in something higher, something greater and something more supernatural in the universe keeping an eye out for us.
"We should probably talk." Leila breathed as she flipped so she was on top of Alec. His hand moved to her hips as he trailed kisses down her neck.
"We should probably not." Alec murmured flipping them again so he was hovering over her. She squealed as he continued his fiery trail of kisses further down her body.
Leila felt her nerves ignite as she tangled her hand in his hair, her other hand reaching for the edge of the pillow. "Alec, we haven't discussed - "
Alec's head jerked up from under the blankets, sending spirals of disappointment down her spine. "You want to discuss things right now?" he asked, his beautiful dark eyebrow raising in skepticism.
Leila shook her head no, nudging for him to continue his skilled ministrations.
At some point in everybody's life, they find themselves asking a supernatural figure or force to compel their life in the right direction.
"Oh Merlin, keep going." Margaret groaned rocking her hips back and forth. "Don't you dare stop,"
Scott grinned at his wife as he stroked her inner thigh, sending waves of pleasure rocking through her. He grunted as he moved inside her, holding her hands above her head possessively. His lips twitched as she moaned loudly, making his insides tighten painfully.
God created the world in 7 days according to Christians. Evolution created the world according to scientists. Whether you choose to believe in God or science, you believe something, somehow, created this broken and crookedly beautiful world.
"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Brittany Kravic moaned grinding against his hard chest as she was pressed up against the door of the on call room.
"So?" he asked roughly tugging her pants down before yanking off his own scrub top and pants. His hands all but tugged her scrub shirt aggressively over her head and hoisted her higher as he began to lick down her breasts.
"The tabloids are right, you have…" Brittany panted, "Amazing skills in every...single...field."
Thomas Sharman grinned toothily as he crashed his lips down to cover hers. He walked them over to the bed and moved so he was hovering right over her. In a blindingly passionate mix of kisses and touching, Brittany felt herself coming undone under his touch. As he moved in and out of her, Brittany whimpered words of nonsense only sounding comprehendable when she encouraged him to move faster.
Her heart rate nearly excelled healthy ranges when their pagers began ringing madly putting a halt to her painful arousal. Thomas bowed his head groaning irritatedly as he moved to reach for their pagers.
"Major incoming trauma. All hands on deck. Damn, people really choose inconvenient times to croak." Thomas sneered yanking on his shirt. Even for Brittany's icy exterior, that was a cold remark. "We shall reconvene once this minor interruption has passed - "
Before he could even finish pulling his pants on or finishing his sentence, Brittany was dashing out the door to race for the pit. Major trauma meant a major opportunity to snag the attention of Wellington and Reynolds. That clinical trial, whatever it was, was hers.
The allure and admiration for the operating room, extends just as deeply as any religion. Some can argue, it extends into a realm even deeper.
"I can't believe I'm missing the quidditch world cup finals for a night shift. It's painfully injust." Draco complained leaning back on his hands as they watched the quiet street below them. "Russia and defending champs from Ireland are playing and it's bound to be a bloody good game. Even Weasley went without Potter to the game." Draco said shaking his head.
Hermione had been listening idly to this for hours. She was rather used to hearing her boys complain, debate, argue and discuss quidditch. It began to feel like a comfortable buzz she could simply drown out at the back of her mind, while she nodded unconsciously and thought of more pressing matters.
"Ginny has barely left the hospital since Harry was admitted. He would have loved to go to the match. He would have insisted he take James, I know it." Hermione said absentmindedly.
Draco turned to look at her with his steely gray eyes. "He's not dead, you know? He can still come back from this. He comes back from everything."
"The longer he's in this state, the chances are less and less likely." Hermione protested. Before he could respond to her darkly true statement, their pagers began lighting up and beeping urgently. Both of them were racing to the door, their conversation long forgotten as they skipped down the steps leading from the rooftop.
"For someone rather small, you're annoyingly fast." Draco huffed as they sped down the corridor, people stopping to let them pass. Hermione grinned to herself as she cut in front of him to dash towards the pit.
Reaching there first, she began pulling on her trauma gown, Draco right behind her. Aaron was already dressed and racing to the fireplaces. She and Draco followed, still out of breath as they waited for the major trauma to arrive. Hermione felt Draco's hands neatly tie her gown before she spun him around. She stood on her tiptoes to messily tie his gown too. Alec, Leila, Brittany Kravic, Scott and Margaret as well as the head of neonatal - Lucille Armstrong came to join them. Chief Kapoor, Wellington, Reynolds and Foster were already waiting.
"Major traumas are going to be flooding those fireplaces any minute now," Persephone said stepping forward to address the healers. "There was a death eater attack at the quidditch world cup finals. According to the emergency apparator Chris, I spoke to earlier, there's approximately 200 injured victims. Half wil be coming here and half will be off to St. Mungos. Work diligently and residents please instruct your interns appropriately."
"You don't think your father could have had anything to do with this do you?" Hermione asked pulling her gloves on.
Without turning to face her, Draco shook his head slightly. "He has an ankle tracker on while he is waiting for his retrial. An auror visits him every morning, afternoon and night to ensure he's behaving and his wand is confiscated."
A dozen whooshes echoed in the pit as green smoke filled the fireplaces. Groups of EAs came running out with badly injured patients on gurneys. All Hermione could feel upon seeing the first line of injured spectators, was gratitude. Gratitude that Draco had indeed been scheduled to work the night shift and was unable to attend the Deathly Quidditch World Cup Finals.
She hurried over to join the dashingly handsome EA Chris, who was wheeling in a middle aged man with a massive injury to the chest.
"Robbie Gratton 49, massive stab wounds to the chest. Death eaters fired dozens of lethal shards of glass at his chest. He shielded all his kids from them and took the brunt." Chris said loudly as she helped him wheel Robbie to a trauma room.
"Where are the shards?" Hermione asked in alarm. Chris was not retarded enough to pull out over a dozen shards of glass.
"His eldest pulled them out. Thought she was helping." Chris said quietly as a group of crying children lead by a frightened older girl approached.
"Get them out." Hermione barked to one of her interns. "Putton we need you over here!" she called. She began tearing gauze packages open as she began addressing the stab wounds. "Let's hang a unit of O Neg please."
"Holy shit." Elizabeth breathed as she bustled over from a flatlined patient. "What moron pulled out those?"
"The daughter." Hermione replied working quickly to apply pressure to the wounds. Robbie's eyes drearily opened as he began wheezing for air.
"My kids," he wheezed. "Where are they?"
"Your children are being taken care of, you're at Hogsmeade General sir. Let's get him an oxygen mask and an ultrasound." Elizabeth ordered reaching for the portable machine, flicking her wand to start it. "Damn it. Sir you have a pneumothorax, we're going to have to operate immediately." she said, already motioning for the others to start moving the gurney.
Robbie moved the oxygen mask aside, wheezing under the strain of one collapsed lung. "My kids…"
"Are doing just fine, Robbie." Hermione assured him. "Let's get you taken care of first."
"Granger give an update to the kids and then meet us in the OR." Putton instructed leaving Hermione standing there, in her blood soaked trauma gown. She stripped off her gown and gloves already knotting her hair behind her head in preparation for the surgery. She reached the group of children all sitting on one hospital bed, huddled together. There was the eldest daughter who looked about 12 or 13, who was trying to console and calm her younger siblings while one of Hermione's interns (the particularly slow one) was addressing a gash on her cheek. The second eldest was a little boy, who couldn't be older than 9 who was weeping softly as he cradled his dislocated arm. The younger two were both girls around 5 who were whimpering in fright as they both nursed their individual injuries.
"Larovic?" Hermione said tersely eyeing the intern with annoyance. He looked up confusedly before smiling chirpily at her. He strode over to her and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Everything is under control Dr. Granger." he said confidently, completely oblivious to the crying children behind him.
Hermione raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "Don't you think the dislocated shoulder is a little more pressing in a younger patient, than a gash smaller than my palm with minimal bleeding?" she asked her voice rising at the end.
Completely ignorant to her rising temper, Larovic blinked in confusion. "I suppose if you think about it that way. I'll adjust my treatment plan to suit your ideals."
Resisting the temptation to roll her eyes, she edged past Larovic and knelt down to meet the eyes of the children.
"I'm Dr. Granger and I'm going to be helping Dr. Putton to fix your daddy. He's got some cuts and we're going to stitch him right up. Is there anything important we should know?" Hermione asked more to the eldest than anyone.
"They just came at us out of nowhere." the eldest breathed. "A big man just jumped in front of us and shot these pieces of glass. Dad…" she said losing her voice slightly. "Dad pushed us behind him. And there was so many pieces of glass in him and so much blood...I pulled them out to help him breathe. But his breathing didn't get better."
"Don't you worry. We're going to do our best to fix him okay? Dr. Larovic is going to take good care of you." she said more as an order and threat to Larovic than the child. She smiled once more at the group of children before walking towards the elevator. She'd decided to keep the little bit of information about the fatality of the daughter's actions to herself. Afterall as Hermione's medical recommendation, remaining in ignorance would be much more beneficial to her treatment plan.
A loud, agonized scream tore through the woman as she gripped the sheets of the gurney. "He can't…" she panted. "He's too small to come out."
"Mrs. Chang - Audrey," Lucille Armstrong, head of Neonatal said slowly. "You were hit by a sectumsempra near the uterus. It's torn completely and begun to bleed severely. If we don't perform a c section and control the bleeding now, your baby will die either way. I won't lie, it is going to be a very premature baby but it's chances of survival are higher as a premie than waiting while you bleed out."
"Stanforth let's book an OR." Margaret said nodding at Alec who hurried off. "Audrey, I promise you I'm going to do everything I can to reunite you and the baby. I can't keep that promise if you don't let us perform this c section."
Audrey let out another gut wrenching scream as Lucille flicked her wand to replace the unit of blood and continued to hold pressure.
"Fine…" Audrey said outright sobbing. "I just wanted to surprise my husband with these quidditch tickets. He was working late so I went to book our seats before he came and now...I've killed our child!" she cried loudly as they began wheeling her to the OR.
"You couldn't have known Audrey." Lucille said sincerely as they ran. As they reached the OR, Alec came speeding down skidding to a stop in front of their gurney.
"No go." he said shaking his head. "All the ORs are full and the last one was just booked by Dr. Sharman and Dr. Wegener."
"Damn it, this can't wait." Lucille said her face hardening into a mask of authority. "What do they have?"
"A splintered knee that needs surgery and Wegener suspects a cyst on the liver." Alec recited from memory. It seemed the eager resident already knew their case was of higher priority and was just looking for confirmation and permission.
"We're going in. Tell Wegener and Sharman I'm terribly sorry but sectumsempra to the uterus of a 30 week pregnant lady takes precedence." Lucille said already wheeling Audrey in.
"Stanforth!" Margaret called stopping Alec midway down the corridor. "I'll talk to Wegener and Sharman. They'll stake you for even daring to cancel their surgery." Alec appeared to be extremely relieved and pleased turning to walk back towards the OR.
"Trauma room 8." he said before entering the scrub room.
"We've got a quidditch player from Russia here!" an EA called. Draco promptly body checked Aaron out of the way as he skirted to a halt in front of the gurney next to none other than Wellington.
"Mine!" he shouted over his shoulder as they wheeled the patient to a spare trauma room that had just been evacuated after a patient coded and died.
"We could use one more set of hands." Wellington said surveying the patient's eye response with her wand.
"Mine!" Leila cried, barreling out of nowhere as she shoulder butted Aaron into a crash cart to join the group in the trauma room.
"Let's order a CT scan, I'm suspecting an edema but I'd like to get a zero in on the location of the swelling. Sir can you tell us what happened?" Wellington asked jotting some notes in a chart.
"Sir?" Draco exclaimed once he got a good look at the patient's face. "That's Vladimir Stamkos! He's the best chaser in the game playing for Russia. He's a triple threat, known as Trikos. Tri for three in Russian because he - "
"So you've heard of me?" Stamkos grinned toothily revealing 2 missing teeth at the back. "If you can fix my head so I can get back in the game, I'll give you a lifetime of free tickets to watch Russia."
Draco laughed happily. "Deal," he said grinning wildly. He probably could have afforded tickets for his entire lifetime and afterlife to watch Russia but free tickets from Trikos himself? What a catch.
"Sorry, Mr. Stamkos if you could tell us how you were injured that would be a big help." Wellington said eyeing Draco with warning.
"Fell off my broom. I was going in for the kill when an Irish player came speeding towards me. Only he didn't have the same uniform as the other Irish players. He wore a slightly darker green and instead of going for the quaffle he hexed me right off my broom and boom! That's all I remember." Stamkos said with hand gestures to enhance the dramatics of the story.
"Well Mr. Stamkos, you're not the first quidditch player I've had to stitch up because of a quidditch accident. We'll get you a CT scan and then we'll see you in surgery." Wellington said handing Leila the chart. "Manage his pre-op as fast as you can and I'll meet you in 30 minutes."
"I can't believe I'm Vladimir Stamkos' healer." Draco said putting his stethoscope on. "The Trikos."
"Vladi?" a surprised voice asked from the door. They all turned to see Brittany Kravic standing there in astonishment. "What are you doing here?" realization dawned on her face and she smacked a hand to her forehead and gasped. "Russia was playing…"
"Brittany - " Vladimir said trying to sit up and was immediately restrained by Leila and Draco. "I didn't know you worked here now."
After a minute or so of intense gazing, they burst into rapid fire Russian conversation which entailed a wide combination of heated parts and deep parts. Draco and Leila awkwardly continued pre-op as the pair chatted loudly. Draco stood up from his examination and wrinkled his nose in frustration.
"Trikos had 3 wives...all divorced...I think…." he said more to himself. "The first was a Russian veela, the second was an ex-tipper no...stripper and the third…holy crap...the third was a doctor." Draco said his eyes widening as they turned to train on Brittany. "You're Vladimir Stamkos' 3rd ex wife?"
Brittany chose not to respond but didn't deny the titlement either. "Let me see his chart."
Leila wordlessely handed it over as they gaped at her with this newfound knowledge. Brittany scanned the chart over with her piercing eyes as the monitor began to ring. Trikos was crashing and he was crashing fast.
"Get a crash cart. Page Dr. Wellington! We don't have time for the CT." Draco ordered beginning compressions as Leila prepared the paddles.
"Charge to 150." Leila ordered positioning the paddles properly. "Clear!" she called and the room watched as Trikos' chest jerked in response to the shock.
"Let's charge to 200. Clear."
Another jerk and the monitor continued to flatline. Brittany came striding from behind them and attempted to wrestle the paddles away from Leila.
"If Vladi dies on your watch I'll sue you for all your red hair is worth." Brittany sneered in response to Leila's unrelenting grip on the paddles.
"Can we get Dr. Kravic out please?" Wellington asked marching in with a pair of gloves. As Brittany was roughly forced outside, Leila delivered one more shock at 300 and Trikos' heart rate stabilized. "Let's get moving people,"
Once inside the scrub room, Draco inserted his wand into the sterilization slot and began to quickly scrub. Leila was on his left and Wellington was on his right.
"I understand the pair of you are eager to impress me for the clinical trial. But I find prudence in reminding you that the man on the table is not Vladimir Stamkos, the Russian chaser. He is a person and he is the ex husband of one of your own. Treat him as such. Because if he dies on our hands, it's not the press you'll have trouble answering to. It'll be the permanent resentment and despise Brittany Kravic will hold against you."
"Making the incision in the chest wall between the ribs." Elizabeth said moving the scalpel with her wand slowly across the previously unmarked skin. "Granger can I get more suction?"
"If only the eldest daughter realized how much more damage she'd be doing by removing the glass." Hermione said shaking her head as she reached for some lap pads. "How did this even happen?"
"I was talking to the chief after we lost our first trauma patient," Elizabeth said without looking up from her work. "She said three death eaters who evaded capture managed to sneak in as spectators and started killing people. The Prophet's television broadcast has labelled it as terrorism."
Hermione felt a weight in her chest she thought would ease after the fall of the Dark Lord. However she was extremely crestfallen when the weight remained stubbornly in her chest, sharpening and twitching every time a new act of terror befell the wizarding world.
"I've got control of the bleeding. If someone could turn on the Wizarding Wireless Network?" Putton asked reaching for a clamp. A scrub healer flicked her wand and the familiar buzz of the radio surrounded them.
"Breaking news, Quidditch Cup Catastrophe death toll continues to climb as the three death eaters responsible are being questioned as we speak. Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley and Evan Rosier, all death eaters who managed to avoid capture after the war, are the culprits responsible for the massacre at the Quidditch World Cup Finals. All three men snuck in as spectators and began murdering and maiming innocents in the stands. According to a survivor who prefers to remain anonymous, an Irish beater switched off with a substitute who instantly flew up to meet famous chaser, Stamkos and promptly jinxed him off his broom. After this key indicative event that something was severely wrong, havoc began to spread. Dolohov unmasked himself as the death eater who hexed Stamkos and spectators began to scramble. Rosier was reported to be flying around on a broom as he fired death curses left and right, while Yaxley stood from the very top row of the pitch and shot down any innocent within reach. The most disturbing part of this horrific tragedy, was the unsettling message left behind. According to survivors, once aurors began arriving and capture was inevitable, Dolohov fired the dark mark above the stadium with a new addition reading; 'Long May the Dark Lord Reign'." the news commentator read, sending chills up Hermione's spine.
"Can we turn that off?" she asked feeling the weight in her chest press against her painfully. The scrub healer switched it off and they continued to work in silence.
"You'd think with the fall of the Dark Lord, his reign of terror would end." Elizabeth said warily as she motioned for the ventilator to be turned on.
"It just goes to show how powerful his influence is even in death," Hermione said finding it difficult to concentrate on the surgical field. "I think I'll go update the kids, if you don't need me."
Elizabeth nodded indicating she was excused, and Hermione stripped off her surgical equipment before stepping out into the corridor. The first breath lessened the weight in her chest and relieved some of the claustrophobia she was feeling. She returned to the pit and surveyed the bustling department. Persephone was ordering interns to new trauma beds and was rushing around attending to different badly injured patients. In the corner, Aaron was scolding Larovic for something she couldn't be bothered to find out about, although she figured she'd hear a complaint about her intern later on. In the centre, Thomas Sharman was painfully resetting a bone as a grown woman shrieked in pain. Chief Kapoor was examining a young man with strangely familiar red hair and pale skin…
"Ron!" Hermione called running to the trauma bed where they were situated. She felt her body collide with his chest as she hugged him hard. "Good Lord Ron, you had to go to the Cup Finals today didn't you? You absolute lucky, moronic bastard!"
"Play lightly Dr. Granger." Chief Kapoor warned pocketing her wand. "Your friend Ron here may have a concussion. Let's order a CT and keep him for observation." she said to one of Draco's timid interns, who nodded nervously before darting off.
"Thank you Chief," Hermione nodded at Kapoor before turning back to Ron. "I have to go, but I'm really glad you're alright."
Ron smiled wanly at Hermione. "I hexed Rosier off the broom he was on. I figured as an auror who was already there, I might as well do my best to wrangle these gits."
Hermione smiled in response and lightly touched his shoulder before turning and hurrying over to a bench where Robbie's children were waiting. She did her best to look composed and professional which was exactly the opposite of what she was feeling.
"Margie!" Dan called upon seeing her purposeful form marching towards him. "What can I do for you? I was just about to go into surgery with Sharman but I can't seem to find the OR he booked."
Margaret took a deep breath before stopping a foot or so in front of him. "That's because the OR was switched to an emergency C section that Dr. Armstrong and I are working on. I came to let you know before I headed back in. As a courtesy."
Dan's smile vanished as he surveyed her with wary eyes. "You know Margie, stealing my surgeries as residents was one thing. But as attendings it's becoming an annoyingly repetitive habit of yours."
"It's not personal or intentional. It's work. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I have to get back." she said feeling her voice catch as the events of the day caught up to her. She turned to leave and felt his warm hand on her forearm. Right over where her intertwined scars were. She tried to pull away but his grip was firm.
Dan lead her into a supplies closet and closed the door quietly. "Are you alright Margie? You don't seem yourself. You don't look so good either."
Margaret did her best to compose her face into what would appear as a perfectly complacent and ordinary look but found cracks spreading along her facade and before she could stop herself, tears were flowing hot and fast down her cheeks.
Dan pulled her into a one armed hug and pressed her head into his solid chest. "Margie...what's wrong?"
Margaret felt her knees weaken and her breath hitch as she slid down onto the floor, dragging Dan with her. She pressed a hand to her trembling lips and inhaled sharply. It was as if the air from her lungs was being drawn out by a massive vacuum.
"A 30 week pregnant lady goes to a quidditch match and gets hit by a sectumsempra. Scott and I...have been trying and trying and...nothing. Yet this woman who's carrying a human being, might lose her life and her childs. How is any of this fair? The irony - "
She continued to sob, the cries wracking her body as Dan held her tightly to his chest. The mixed emotions of pain, irony and injustice was frying her heart from the inside, out. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and said nothing. Normally he would offer words of comfort or assurance but he was remaining oddly silent. It was then, Margaret felt the realization sink in. What could Dan possibly say when he was the reason she and Scott would forever be unsuccessful in their attempts for a child?
She stilled and pulled away from Dan, standing up unsteadily. She wiped her face, keeping her eyes trained on the door as she felt the once friendly atmosphere disintegrate. She breathed deeply before exiting promptly, without a word to Dan and returned to the OR, where a 30 week pregnant woman was waiting for her to save her child.
If she couldn't have one of her own children, she could do her best to make sure Audrey Chang did.
"Bellsan what can cause brain edemas?" Wellington asked as she trained her eyes on Stamkos' brain through the neurosurgery microscopes.
"Well Stamkos' specifically fell from his broom and it caused the tissues in his brain to swell severely. The skull isn't able to accomodate the swelling and intracranial pressure builds up which causes his brain to press against his skull." Leila said as she smirked at Draco from over her microscope.
"Correct." Wellington remarked as she slowly moved her wand in small sections. "We've got to relieve the intracranial pressure before his memory and comprehension is permanently damaged."
"It doesn't help that Kravic is watching us like some mother hawk." Draco said trying not to sneer at her in the gallery. "I mean they're divorced, she shouldn't give a damn."
"Feelings don't disappear just because a marriage does." Leila argued shooting Draco a nasty look. "Don't be insensitive. This is the most emotion I've seen from her since we met her in our intern year."
Draco snorted behind his mask and felt Wellington's judgemental eyes settle on him. He did his best to refrain from bursting into laughter behind his mask and compose himself.
"Neither of you seemed to understand what I warned you of before surgery." Wellington said with a hint of disappointment and irritation.
When neither of them seemed to know how to respond to this, Wellington glanced up in exasperation. "For God's sake you're supposed to be her classmates. Her partners, her coworkers, her support system! You don't have to be drinking buddies but the least you all could do is show some inclusiveness and respect for her."
"It's not like we haven't tried." Leila said feebly. "We've tried to invite her out, talk to her, but she's just not interested in socializing."
"It truly fazes me how future surgeons who work their whole lives to help people, lack the basic skills of empathy and compassion." Wellington snapped. "Now shut up and hand me the bone saw, we've reached the skull."
Aaron was pissed. Pissed beyond words. So pissed he was fighting the temptation to storm into OR 3 and hex Leila and Draco into the next millennium. Aaron was chief resident for Merlin's sake. He had every right to an exhilarating case or a chance to impress Wellington and Reynolds in surgery.
"Apply ice frequently until the swelling goes down. You can take a few doses of pain medication if the pain begins to increase, but your scans are clear and you're cleared to go." Aaron said smiling blankly at a distraught and weepy older woman who nodded as she sniffled and grabbed her ratty purse.
He turned to hand the chart to the healers at the healers station and leaned back to survey the pit. Majority of the patients had been seen to, the urgent ones already escorted to surgery. Foster was still bustling around and treating a few patients here and there and Reynolds was scolding Larovic in an empty meeting room. Aaron spotted Thomas finish up with a teenage boy and watched as he strode off to an empty on call room.
Without really deciding to, he quickly yelled out that the patient in bed 5 needed discharge papers to the healer in the healers station and took off after Thomas. He didn't know what he was going to say to him about his distance lately, just that he was going to say something. He opened the door to the on call room, fully prepared to burst into a speech about Merlin knows what when he was met with a startling sight.
Thomas was hunched over on the on call bed and was breathing heavily. His breaths were coming out in short puffs and his shoulders were taut with tension. Aaron was startled to see confident, swaggering Thomas hunched over so vulnerably.
Aaron felt his heart constrict as he met Thomas' bright green eyes from across the on call room. He shut the door and moved to sit next to him. He wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders, feeling a strong desire to shield him.
"What happened?" he asked placing his other hand on Thomas' knee. "Talk to me."
Thomas stilled under his touch and to his surprise, shuffled over away from him. Trying to mask his hurt, Aaron fiddled with his stethoscope as he watched Thomas inhale sharply. They had never been this awkward before.
"Did something happen?" Aaron asked with uncertainty.
Before Thomas could respond, the door to the on call room banged open and Brittany Kravic stormed in, slamming it back shut. Her back was to them as she began stripping off her shirt and pulling her hair out of her messy ponytail.
"I got your page, are you ready to finish what we started this morning? I've had the worst day, you wouldn't even believe how crappy things have become - " she froze midway from pulling her pants down.
Aaron felt his jaw drop and his heart ice over as he drunk in the sight of Brittany's half naked form standing before his boyfriend expectantly. She cursed loudly and quickly yanked her scrubs back on in embarrassment.
Aaron turned in disbelief to Thomas who was staring stonily at Brittany. The tension in the room intensified as she strode over to him. She cracked a slap across his face, humiliation and rage burning on her cheeks.
"The next time you page me to an on call room to have sex, it'd be nice to know your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend would be joining us." she snapped storming out of the on call room, leaving a seething trail of anger and what appeared to be pain behind.
The door shut with a resounding snap and the silence between Aaron and Thomas was growing unbearable.
"Why?" Aaron asked standing up and walking to the other side of the room, unable to tolerate being within such close vicinity with Thomas.
"Why?" Thomas echoed back with incredulity. "Well maybe because I needed to find someone who was used to being involved with celebrities. Someone who could handle the 'baggage' associated with dating a popular public figure. Someone who could be with me and tell me the truth about how they feel. Someone other than you."
Aaron felt each word like a whip cracking across his back. It was painful to know Thomas' unfaithfulness had everything to do with Aaron and nothing to do with him. "When? When did you find out?"
Thomas looked away from Aaron and sighed deeply. "When I came to the resident's lounge to see if you were ready to go a few weeks ago. Not that it matters. Point is, you felt more justified telling your friends about us, than me."
Aaron gulped, feeling as if he swallowed a giant rock that had moved down his esophagus and settled on the floor of his stomach. "I guess that's it then."
"I guess so." Thomas said still avoiding Aaron's eye. "I hope you find someone who's baggage you can handle."
Without another glance in Thomas' direction, Aaron left the on call room and everything they had, behind.
"When we began the operation, we'd managed to get into collapsed lung and begin some of the repair to the damaged lung." Elizabeth said clasping her hands behind her back. Taking a deep breath she said, "Unfortunately we encountered several challenging complications during surgery…"
Mrs. Gratton began to cry as she wrapped one arm around herself and the other hand was pressed to her mouth to stifle the half sobs.
"There were extensive stab wounds to his chest from the shards of glass that were fired at him. Some penetrated so far into the chest, it collapsed his lung. Since the shards were removed the bleeding became severe and…"
"We couldn't save him. Mrs. Gratton we're so sorry," Hermione continued. "But Robbie is dead. The blood loss was too severe."
Mrs. Gratton failed to stifle the next sob that tore through her as she fell back into the chair. "How?" she said shakily. "How could the shards just be removed?"
Elizabeth and Hermione shared an uncomfortable look as Mrs. Gratton waited.
"Your...your eldest daughter thought she was helping when she removed the pieces of glass from your husband's chest." Elizabeth breathed. Hermione felt her chest constrict as she watched Mrs. Gratton shake her head and mutter protests under her breath.
"You mean...are you saying...my daughter killed my husband?" Mrs. Gratton stuttered her hands shaking uncontrollably.
Elizabeth sat down next to Mrs. Gratton and began to explain the complications, doing her best not to make it seem like her daughter's actions were fatal and the cause of Robbie's death.
"We're so sorry Mrs. Gratton." Elizabeth said squeezing her hand before standing up. Mrs. Gratton's 4 children began running over from the social worker, the eldest walking slowly and unsurely as she observed the surgeons standing with her sobbing mother.
Hermione felt sympathy and pity for the guilt she would surely feel, before she and Elizabeth excused themselves and retreated to the corridors where healers could be found hurrying up and down.
"Can you do a check on all my post-ops before rounds?" Elizabeth asked yawning widely. "Holy crap it's 7 in the morning already. Gather your interns for rounds at 8:30 sharp."
Hermione pulled off her scrub cap and reached for the first chart, feeling that weight in her chest return to it's deathly silent dormant state.
"Bellsan see if you can find Kravic and let her know he's okay." Wellington said tiredly as she reached for the coffee mug. "Malfoy do a check on my post-ops. Good work today from the both of you."
Leila and Draco tiredly made their way to the nearest healers' station reaching for their respective charts.
"How is it already 7am and I haven't gotten a wink of sleep?" Leila mumbled scanning over Vladimir's chart before closing it and stretching her arms.
"The high of surgery is addicting." Hermione smiled weakly from where she stood on the opposite side of the healers' station.
"You won't believe who we just operated on." Draco said his grey eyes lighting up with excitement, reminding Hermione distinctly of a child.
"At least you don't have to have the most awkward conversation with Kravic. You just get to do routine post-ops." Leila huffed rubbing her eyes groggily.
Hermione seemed to spot something over Leila's shoulder and groaned. "The idioticness of Larovic can be astounding more often than annoying. Larovic!"
There is an extremely dangerous religion. The religion that feeds darkness, commits sin for the 'greater good' and practices for nobody but themselves...the religion of power, greed and evil.
Leila felt weariness as she approached Brittany Kravic who was sitting on the steps of an empty stairwell.
"Finally I found you! I paged you like 10 times! The least you can do is answer me or tell me where you are - " Leila paused when she saw Brittany was crying, real tears of pain and hurt. She sat down on the step below her and glanced up uncomfortably.
"Er...Kravic...Brittany? Are you alright? Uhm...is it Vladimir?" Leila asked only resulting in making her cry harder. Feeling panicked, Leila reached a hand out to clasp one of hers. "If it is...he's okay...we managed to alleviate the intracranial pressure. He should wake up soon…"
Kravic was taking deep breaths in attempt to calm herself but only ended up crying harder. Feeling uncomfortable and unsure of whether to leave or not, Leila remained still and clasping her cold hand. Watching the tough and mighty fall, was like watching the day bring darkness and the night bringing light.
Religion is a belief. And the belief sparks a passion and a beam of hope and light. The light brings hope onto a new day. Even a 22 hour long day. Whether you believe in a god or not, you believe in something. Something supernatural, something more powerful than you and me.
"Audrey, meet your baby boy." Margaret smiled carefully handing over the swaddled baby to the beaming mother and father.
"Oh...he's beautiful...just perfect." Audrey cried stroking the child's cheek.
Margaret and Lucille Armstrong quietly excused themselves from the room and Margaret felt significantly less anxious at once. Lucille shared a look with her knowingly and moved to hug her tightly. Lucille was one of the only friends of hers who actually knew what had happened that night with Dan. Lucille, Scott, her and Dan were the sole people who knew the details of that horrific night.
"I know it's hard." she murmured. "I know how hard it is to hand people their own newborn babies when you can't have any of your own."
The painfully true words, no matter how many times she heard them was still a powerful blow to Margaret. She breathed deeply and wiped her wettening eyes on Lucille's healer coat. No words needed to be said as she withdrew and smiled weakly at Lucille.
"It is what it is." she shrugged reaching for a chart to distract her shaking hands. "Go save some babies." she said nodding that it was okay for Lucille to leave. She heard Lucille murmur words of greeting to a familiar voice who came up behind her.
"How was your crazy night? You know other than the fact that our mind blowing sex was interrupted?" Scott asked coming up as Lucille left.
Margaret turned to face him and tried to smile convincingly. "Sectumsempra to a 30 week pregnant lady. Emergency C and the premie is stable."
"Wow, tough case. I had thirteen facial lacs, 4 burn victims ranging from primary burn to tertiary burns, an ear blasted off, a dark stinging jinx to the face, Marge you should have seen this guy…"
Margaret felt her pain easen as she listened to her husband chatter while she finished reviewing some charts. Barren or not, she and Scott would have a beautiful life together even if it meant living for his adorable and dorky daily chatter.
A priest, a rabbi, an Imam or any religious figure can all tell you what to believe in and how to act. But at the end of the day, you believe what you want, say you want, hear what you want and decide what you want.
"What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to maul my face out?" Thomas asked in surprise with a tinge of bitterness, when Brittany slipped in the on call room and locked the door. She walked over to him and straddled his hips, leaning forward so their noses were touching.
"My ex is here. I assume your ex is here. I figured there's more use for your face unharmed then mauled out in my anger. More use I'd like to experience now." she breathed closing the gap between their lips.
His hands moved to her hips and began tugging her pants down. She moaned loudly pushing him all the way onto his back and crawling on top of him.
We don't always make the best choices. Choices we may later regret. But in the moment, sin feels more like heaven.
"I'm going to murder Larovic and lose my healer's license." Hermione grumbled plopping down on roof edge beside Draco, Leila, Alec and Aaron. Their legs were hanging over the edge of the roof as they watched night turn into day.
"I'd happily be an accomplice in that murder." Alec murmured as they watched shop keepers returning to their stores at the beginning of the day.
"We were never that dumb as interns." Aaron said idly picking at a thread on his scrub pants.
"Well I wasn't. The same can't be said for the rest of you." Draco shrugged causing the others to laugh.
"You are so full of yourself." Hermione said shaking her head. "I'm surprised your heart doesn't explode from all the love you foster inside. For yourself." she added.
Leila snorted and sipped her coffee as the sun rose over Hogsmeade. "I had the awkwardest moment in the stairwell with Kravic. She was...crying. And I'd never seen her so upset in all the time I've known her."
"Her ex husband is here, it's to be expected." Hermione said reasonably.
"I still don't understand how that works." Draco said propping his knee up and draping his arm around it. "You terminated the marriage. It's over. Done. You shouldn't have any feelings left or you know you've made a mistake."
As Leila and Draco continued to bicker, Hermione's eyes sought an approaching group of figures trotting down Hogsmeade and towards the hospital.
"Guys…" she said squinting to see better. She leaned forward trying to distinguish the faces as they neared the hospital. "Guys…"
Her words were drowned out by their continuous argument but Hermione felt recognition ignite somewhere in the back of her mind. She leaned forward to get a better look and nearly screamed when she recognized the group approaching.
"Guys! It's Hagrid! He's being levitated by…Flitwick, McGonagall and Slughorn. I think he's hurt!" Hermione said hysteria rising from the pit in her stomach.
"What the hell is a 'flit wick'?" Alec asked wrinkling his nose.
Hermione tried to scramble up, but she didn't realize how far she was leaning over. Her foot met no ground and the next thing she knew she had fallen off the edge of the roof.
It's when our life is no longer in our hands, that we rely on idol figures of worship for some miraculous divine intervention.
Author's Note
Thanks for support and sticking by! Leave me a review on your thoughts on Brittany, Lucille or any character with more information revealed this chapt.
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