OhSam Triple Play 2015!
The comm hosted this little event a couple of years ago, and as November 2 is an auspicious day for our darling Sam, today would be the perfect time to revisit this challenge. Welcome to the Triple Play 2015!
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(Warning: All of the medical info in here is most likely completely wrong, since I did no research at all other than watching ER. Sorry about that. Also, Dr. Cara cusses like a sailor. I don't apologize for that.)
She's going to fucking kill Garcia. It's like the guy's a psychic. Like he knows it's gonna get weird. Every time she agrees to cover his ER shift - every single goddamn time - some kind of bizarre shit goes down. People chopping each other up with axes? Really?
I didn't even want to be an ER doctor, she mutters, as she washes her hands. But she is right now, and she's waiting for white male, late 20s, multiple ax wounds, unresponsive, pupils equal and reactive. He's a bloody mess when he shows up, his shirt already cut off, and she appraises him quickly. The arm - defensive wound, most likely - is the worst, and he'll need surgery for that one. His fingers are sliced to hell, but none of them seem to be in danger of falling off. Guy must have fought like a son of a bitch. He's not only cut up, but also bruised and scraped. His BP is low but not scary low, but he looks like he's lost a lot of blood; there's probably a pint on his face and chest alone, and God knows how much the missing shirt soaked up. She tells David to hang a bag of O neg and some saline and sends Destiny (dear God, what a stupid name for a nurse, especially in the ER; who wants to think about their destiny in the ER?) to alert the surgical team. The wounds on his chest are comparatively minor, which in this case means they look like someone just wanted to hurt him really really bad instead of turn him into steaks, and she can stitch them up while he stabilizes enough for surgery. If she's fast enough, she can get it done before he comes around.
She flushes a chest wound on his left side with saline while David cleans off the right side of his chest and then wipes his face. Looks familiar, David says, and "that's because you hang out with a bad fucking crowd, Dave, and we might want to have a talk about that later," she laughs. She stitches that one up and feels kind of bad that it's on the sloppy side until she notices another one on his shoulder that looks like some moron used dental floss and a crochet needle, so clearly she's not the worst doc he's ever seen. If that one was even done by a doctor. (Seriously. Axes and back-room dental floss stitches. Bad fucking crowd.)
She stretches her back, works the crick out of her neck, and gets ready to work on the other side. David's got him completely cleaned up now, and she looks across a wide expanse of tanned muscle and suddenly stops cold. That tattoo. She knows that tattoo. She looks at his face (and Jesus, how has she not even looked at his face until now?) and there's the long silky brown hair her hands were buried in, the distracting lips, and the pretty hazel eyes, closed now but still unmistakeable.
"Agent Stiles?" she says. "Sam?"
"Oh, crap, that's why he looks familiar!" Dave says. "He's one of those FBI guys from yesterday!"
One of those FBI guys. And she really, really shouldn't be working on him. She just (reluctantly) showered the scent of him off her skin a couple of hours ago. But it's not like she can say Hey, I just banged this guy, so it's really not appropriate for me to be treating him. And also, she kinda doesn't want to hand him over to anyone else. She kinda wants to wrap him up in something soft and warm and take care of him right now.
"Agent Stiles?" she repeats. His brow furrows and his eyes flutter a little bit. "Agent Stiles, you're in the hospital. You're going to be okay, but you've been cut up pretty badly."
He opens his eyes all the way and takes in his surroundings, then squints at her in confusion. "Care..."
"Yes, it's Dr. Roberts. You remember we met yesterday?"
Maybe he gets the hint and knows to keep it professional, or maybe he doesn't even remember. "Dr. Roberts. I'm..." He frowns and looks around some more. "I'm in the hospital? What happened?"
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