Natalie paced before the front desk, Angel's chart beating a steady rhythm against her thigh as she walked, tapping it absently. She filed anxiously at her thumbnail with her teeth and sighed frequently. As horrible as it was to think, things had been easier while Angel was unconscious. She could attend him, research a cure, and not worry about a
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She frowned at herself. You're stalling. Stop stalling. Just...go. Drawing in a deep breath -- more from habit than need -- she eased into the room. Her attention went immediately to the form on the bed. His eyes closed, she thought he might still be asleep. She turned toward the door, hoping to slip out unnoticed.
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With a new found resolve, forced though it was, she turned and moved to the supply cabinet. There, she withdrew fresh gauze, tape, gloves, and antiseptic. Her hesitation as she stood was barely visible to the outside observer.
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