The hospital was already alive with its usual morning chaos when Everest walked in, stifling a yawn and clutching her half-empty coffee. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt toast from the staff lounge, a mix she learned to associate with the start of her shifts. She slid her badge across the scanner and headed to the staff area, where a nurse intercepted her before she could even stash her bag in her locker.
"Dr. Sawyer, you've been assigned to room 306," the nurse stated, holding up a clipboard. "New patient—young male, early 20s, overdose. He's stable, but barely." Everest's eyes skimmed over the papers. She felt the weight of the day already pressing down on her. "Combative?"
"Very," the nurse confirmed.
Of course he was. They always were.
Everest nodded, slipping on her lab coat and heading toward the room. She'd barely had time to prepare herself, let alone finish her coffee, but that was life here. No matter how drained she felt—or how little sleep she'd gotten—there was always another crisis to handle.
As she walked through the hallways, she let her mind shift gears. The patient was young. An overdose. She didn't know his story yet, but she'd been through enough of these cases to know what to expect. Anger. Pain. The irony wasn't lost on her. Trying to help someone who didn't want to be helped was a battle Everest knew all too well—just not one she ever expected to see from the other side.
Everest paused outside Room 306, glancing through the small window in the door. The patient sat upright on the bed, his hands fidgeted restlessly in his lap. He was pale, his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with exhaustion. She stepped inside, keeping her movements calm and deliberate. "Morning," she said, her voice steady but not overly friendly.
He didn't look at her. Instead, he stared at the blank wall. "I already told them—I don't need to be here! I'm fine." Everest took his chart from its holder, pulled up a chair, and sat at his bedside. She crossed her legs. "You overdosed last night. Your heart stopped for almost a minute," she lowered the chart to look at him, "that's not good."
"I said I'm fine," he snapped, finally turning to glare at her. His pupils were slightly dilated, and a faint tremor ran through his fingers. Everest met his defiance with calm neutrality. "What did you take?" His eyes darted away. "Nothing."
"Right," she said, folding her arms. "So the tox screen is lying? Travis, it says there were opioids in your system," she uncrossed her legs, leaning forward. "Fentanyl, specifically. If you didn't take it, I'm guessing someone else forced it on you?" His glare hardened. "I don't have to tell you anything."
Everest nodded and leaned back. "You're right. You don't. But let me tell you how this goes. Fentanyl is no joke. It doesn't care how careful you think you're being—it's deadly. You're lucky you got here when you did, but if this happens again..." She let the silence hang in the air, heavy and deliberate. "You might not get another chance."
His fingers stilled. His voice, when it came, was quieter, barely above a mumble. "It was just a couple of pills. Someone said they were Peres." Everest leaned forward slightly, her tone softening. "Fentanyl doesn't give warnings—it just takes over. But now you've got a chance a chance to decide what happens next."
For a moment, he didn't reply. The tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. It wasn't much but it was enough for now. Everest stood, giving him a small nod. "I'll check in later." with that, she left the room, exhaling slowly as she stepped back into the bustling hallway.
She was halfway to the nurses' station when she spotted a familiar face— Bug, leaning on the counter, chatting animatedly with a nurse. Her bright grin was impossible to miss. "Bug?" Everest stopped in her tracks, blinking in surprise.
Bug turned, her face lighting up. "Everest! I was in the area and thought, 'You know who could use a lil' sunshine in their life? My favorite hospital workaholic!'" She held up a large to-go cup with a dramatic flourish. "Coffee delivery! Because I care."
Everest sighed, half in exasperation, half in amusement, as she walked up to her. "You realize that you're probably the only person who can just waltz in here like this, right?" Bug grinned. "What can I say? People love me. Now, take your coffee and tell me you're actually eating lunch today, or I'm going to camp out here and make sure you do."