𝐂𝐥𝐞𝗼.
𝐉𝐚𝐬𝗺𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝗼𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫.
𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝗼....

"Cleo Roberts! 16 years old, suffered from a minor laceration to the head. GS wound to the abdomen. BP 120/90. "

The words of the paramedics drowned in and out as a group of people huddled around the gurney.

My soul seemed deviated from my physical body as everything seemed so disconnected...

"Send her to Trauma One! Someone page Jackson!"

The room was filled with the shouting of commands and swift arms moving to my aid. Eventually, I was blinded by the bright spotlight that shone in my face. It was as if I was found in the desert and parched from sheer exhaustion.

Not a single muscle in my body has the strength to fight off my new abductors.

"Alright, shoot in 10 of morphine, hello, Cleo, can you hear me?" A voice asked.

A nurse yells out, "BP is rising!"

"Okay, give her 10mg of acebutolol. She might be in a state of shock from the trauma."

My head motionlessly moved as I heard the voice once more. "Hey, we are going to do the best we can, okay? You're safe here. Dante, damn, turn her onto the side. Let's order a CT scan, CBC, and go to the blood bank and get me four units. Alright, I need a chest tube! I don't want to crack her open unless I have to." the voice commanded.

"Where's my...dad?" I mumble faintly while my eyes were still blinded by the intensity of the spotlight.

Once they turn me to the side, I got a quick glimpse of the other trauma room as they were working on my father in the other room.

"Notify the OR, get us a room."

The voice answers, "Okay, there's exit wound laterally at L2. We are working on him in the other room okay? He's going to be alright. Focus on me. Hey, Cleo? Can you feel this?" I felt a sharp prick against my leg as I yelp.

Another voice answers, "She's not paralyzed. The bullet must've missed the spinal cord."

"She's BRADYING DOWN!"

My eyes slowly closed before my face met up with a hand gently slapping against my cheek.

"Cleo! Hey Cleo?! Stay with ME!"

My eyes open once more as I laid in the hospital bed in an empty and dark hospital room. The only sound was the sounds of machines beeping alongside my hospital bed.

Everything seemed like a blur, a bad nightmare that somehow was real.

"Ah, you're awake now?"

Jasmine County Cafeteria
Present Day.
05:12

"Nathan Logan. 34 year old. No history of any diseases or illnesses. Suffers from cholelithiasis. How do you think we should treat it? An open cholecystectomy or laparoscopic?"

I rest my head on the palm of my hand as Dr. Jackson waves for my attention.

"Did you hear me?" he asks abruptly as I was in my thoughts.

My eyes met up with his massively large hands that moved within my vision range as I woke from my trance. "Uh, well, he's young, and I think...laparoscopic would have a better recovery time..." I hesitated. A part of me didn't know nor had the brain capacity to care. It was five in the morning, and I barely had any strength to process the information due to my lack of rest. Sadly, the watery substance that the hospital labeled as "coffee" wasn't doing any justice. Dr. Jackson just looked at me before asking,

"Are you asking me or are you telling me?"

I gulp slowly before taking another sip of the warm yet bitter coffee. I was afraid to admit how much of a blubbering idiot I was because I truly didn't know the answer.

Maybe there wasn't a wrong answer and Dr. Jackson is just assessing my own clinical judgment.

The idea of using the laparoscope seemed amazing, but the hand-eye coordination of trusting my own hands while staring at a tv seemed daunting. I've seen the procedures performed before but seeing vs actually doing it was two different things. I wasn't ready to fully allow Dr. Jackson to realize the huge mistake he made by accepting me into his program just yet.

Before I could answer, I was interrupted by a woman wearing a pair of lavender scrubs walking over to our table.

"Good morning, you," she chirps to Dr. Jackson.

Immediately, his attention was to her as he grins widely before the woman pecks his cheek. "Hey, you. There got you here early, huh?" he asks. She nods her head as her smile dissipates, "A couple just had a twenty-two-week-old preemie. I'm just trying to buy the mother some coffee. I don't know when the chaplain is going to be here."

Dr. Jackson's smile disappeared, "Wow, I'm sorry, Lisa. Is it still breathing?" Her hands were clenched into fists before muttering angrily, "I really do hate my job sometimes, you know? Poor thing. Ugh. Anyways, what are you doing?" Her piercing eyes looked away from him to look at me in an intimidating yet suspicious manner. I immediately averted eye contact and looked down at my cup of coffee.

"Uh, Lisa, this is Cleo. She's a surgical intern here. We were discussing the best method of performing a cholecystectomy since I'm performing one. She's going to help assist me. Cleo, this is my wife, Lisa." he explained.

My eyes looked up at Lisa innocently and give her a steady smile, "Hi." She looked at me for a while, possibly deciding my ulterior motive with her husband, before smiling back at me. The whole moment seemed awkward in itself as I could understand the slight intimidation she felt with her husband hanging with an intern.

It was no surprise that Dr. Jackson was finer than wine, but I wasn't searching for a romantic quarrel with him. I just wanted him to learn from him, although, I wasn't ready to confess my secrets to him just yet.

Hastily, Lisa's intimidation dissipate as her eyes looked back at her husband before asking, "Lunch is still on, right?"

He nods, "Yeah, I told you we were going to have lunch together right? Ambulance Bay?" Before they could continue any more of their side conversation, his pager started to buzz. Lisa released a sigh before shaking her head as Dr. Jackson looks down at the pager.

"Shit, 911 from Dante in the ER," he mutters as he stands up from his seat and grabs my hand, "Crap, c'mon Cleo. Lisa, good luck with that preemie! Keep me updated!"

Her mouth slightly gaped open at the fact that Michael was holding my hand and pulling me towards the exit of the cafeteria. I turn around one more time to see Lisa with her arms folded giving me a deadly stare with those precarious sapphire orbs.

Two hours in, and I found my devil in hell.

Michael.
ER Ambulance Bay.
05:25

"A HOUSE FIRE AT THE FUNGU APARTMENT COMPLEX IN UPTOWN LA. MASS CASUALTY ALERT."

I answer the paramedic line on the two-way radio, "We will take five major and ten minors, you read me?"

"ROGER THAT. EMS OUT."

Dante nods as he slides a pair of yellow latex gloves on, "Sorry for paging you. I wouldn't have, but we need more surgeons down here, we are getting swamped."

"It's fine. I was starting in about five minutes with the new interns. I told Shirley to let them start on pre-op and check up on patients in recovery."

I chuckle as we wait for the paramedics at the ambulance bay outside. Cleo was inside prepping the trauma rooms as Dante asks, "Who's the chick?"

"She's a new intern. Possible trauma fellow."

He laughs, "Clearly, but don't think a little birdy didn't chip about you two having coffee together." My teeth edged alongside my bottom lip in irritation, "Is it wrong for me to talk to an intern about a damn cholecystectomy? Even Lisa was giving her stares. I don't understand."

Dante was grinning hard at me, "It's because she's gorgeous as hell. Don't lie to me and say you haven't looked just a bit. Hell, you brought her here but not the other interns?"

"It's because she was already here and...we may need the help. You are such a whimpering dog. I haven't looked at her...like that. I'm an attending. She's an intern. Plus, I have a wife, you son of a bitch."

He teases childishly, "Hm, that translated to: Yes, I looked Dante, but I like making excuses like the pussy I am but "I have a wife" and I want to not seemed like a "bad" man, but yes I looked."

Before I could entertain Dante's stupidity, Cleo pushed through the two doors and walked towards the two of us.

"The burn unit is ready, and we are just waiting," she explains before resting her hands on her hips. My eyes looked at her graciously as I couldn't understand the revolting intimidation Lisa felt around Cleo. Cleo was ridiculously attractive. Anyone and their mother could see that, but it was her first day.

I don't need people coming with ridiculously moronic rumors of me having an illicit affair with an intern.

Her eyes met up with mine, which caused me to look at my watch to avert eye contact. Fortunately, Dante speaks to break the unpleasant silence, "Great, you must be Cleo, eh? Welcome to Jasmine County. I'm Dante, I'm the attending here in the ER, unlike some cutting-obsessed freaks." His head turned towards my direction to face me, which led Cleo to stifle a small chuckle.

"He's just jealous that you chose surgery over emergency medicine and chasing crazy-ass lunatics. Didn't you have a whole mother that attacked you the other day?"

Dante huffs, "You didn't have to bring that shit up, you asshole."

I smile mischievously before Cleo injects, "I mean there's nothing wrong with Emergency Medicine, it's just not for me."

I began to laugh before slapping Dante's shoulder playfully, "Dante, she pities you!"

Dante sighs disappointedly, "Ah shucks, well we could've had a blast, but who's to say that you won't pop here and there and help me with some surgical consults?" She shrugs her shoulders, "Maybe if Dr. Jackson allows me to do consults." I scoff as I hear the sirens of the ambulances, "Hey, look here they come."

Cleo slides on her mask as Dante chimes in, "Yo, an intern diving into a mass casualty case? That's something you don't see every day." Cleo exhales slowly as she turns to Dante, "If it makes you happy, I'm nervous as hell!" I turn to Cleo and whisper, "Just...stay close with me." She nods her head as the ambulances' wails got louder until they got here.

The doors of the ridge open and there the first battle began.

Cleo.
Trauma Room Three.
05:35

I held my breath as Dr. Jackson and I did cut downs on the burnt patients from the house fire before sending them to the Burn Unit. Some patients had severe lacerations, while others had serious full-thickness burns across almost fifty percent of their bodies.

Right now, we were working on a ten-year-old who suffered from full-thickness burns across her body.

"Cleo, I need more gauze. C'mon!" Dr. Jackson asks in agitation. Although he seemed frustrated, I could tell he was frustrated with the situation more than myself. Swiftly, I rushed and grabbed the box of gauze and hands him some as I look at the little girl. She was calling for her mother while Dr. Jackson worked to make her more comfortable. I looked at her quietly before mumbling, "Everything is going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

I couldn't tell her the truth that her burns were too extensive and that she might die in a matter of hours from infection.

My eyes were weary yet carried the strength to hold back tears as my hand gently brushed against the girl's cheek that wasn't scorched. I sat on the stool beside the bed and asked, "What's your name?"

"Mindy," she answers.

I smile softly before answering, "I'm Cleo. We are going to bring you to the doctors that will help you with your burns okay?" My thumb gently brushed away a tear that was rolling down her cheek as the nurses prepped Mindy to go upstairs. Just looking at her haunted expression of fear and misery reminded me of myself.

Reminded me of my own experience.

Once Mindy was gone, I slid off my gloves, tossing them into the bin, before rushing out of the room to the ambulance bay.

I just couldn't take it.

I found myself sitting on the curb and dwelled on what I saw in the last thirty minutes.

Deep down, I felt like a loser. Those people in that complex were probably getting ready for school, work, whatever. Their lives...it was finite. So disposable, as if we were battling a war. I watched them just lose their lives, and it was just that simple. People live and people die and sometimes it was out of our hands to save them.

My legs were up against my chest as I rest my head on my knees.

I wanted to scream and just throw things across the room because I couldn't save that little girl. Medicine wasn't that easy, I know. No one ever said being a doctor was going to be an everyday success, but I wanted to be a success for that little girl.

The same way Dr. Jackson was a success. Just a look from him and it seemed as though, his presence seemed to remind me of how far away from being an extraordinary doctor like him. Even now, my admiration for him was subjective, but it started to glimmer into egotistical praise.

"Why are you sitting on the ground? Get up." a voice commanded.

I lift my head to see Dr. Jackson standing beside me. He was looking up at the former night-sky that filled with shades of indigo, violet, and light brims of orange as dawn arrived. I answered angrily, "Dr. Jackson. How can I get up? How can I just act like I didn't see people die right in front of me? I just don't understand."

He sighs deeply before finding a seat beside me on the curb. "Because you're starting to realize what the world doesn't see here. You're becoming a doctor, not a god. When people see a doctor, I know at times the world seemed to think we fix everything, but we can't. We fix and cut, and we cry and at times we feel as though we would die for our patients. But, we shouldn't take it as an excuse to slump our sorrows. We just got to get up and do our jobs." I chuckled sarcastically, "Maybe...this isn't the place for me."

"Cleo, you lost a battle. Don't forfeit the war because of one casualty. Look at me," he commands.

I hesitate for a moment as I look over at Dr. Jackson. His mahogany orbs stared into mine before answering, "You did well out there. But, you want to be a good doctor? Let me tell you how. You have to care, but at the same time not let your emotions hinder your judgment. A little sloppy in spots, but I think...you're in the right place to be. Go back there. Be there for your patient." His face were inches from mine as my eyes gazed down at his lips.

He seemed to find himself doing the same at our unexpected attraction to one another. Maybe, because he easily could get another intern that was easily more qualified, yet he wants me to go back to Mindy. It was only the devil in me that wanted to lean forward and push my lips against his.

But, I had to remember I was no devil nor a fool.

Forcefully, I look away hesitantly as my mind thought back the important thought of possible thought of watching that little girl die as I whisper, "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, who's ever sure about this? Look, I'm not going to force you into this, but take some time out here. When you're ready to be a doctor again, well...you know where to go."

He stands up and walks back inside while I continue to sit on the curb of the ambulance bay. Eventually, my legs had the courage to stand as I stare at the cold, steel metal doors of Jasmine County Medical Center.

The wind aimlessly blew against my body as I hurried my way to the double doors and walked inside to be greeted by Dr. Jackson, who was standing in the hallway of the ER. I exchanged a small smile as he walks over to me, "Ready?"

"I've always been ready. I'm a doctor."

Burn Unit - Unit One.
08:24

I sat in the seat beside Mindy's bed as she had an oxygen mask covering her face to help her breathe. Her breathing levels were more condensed and shallow as she lays in bed motionlessly. Eventually, I was going to have to intubate her to protect her airways and help her breathe better, but as the minutes blew by, the closer she was to die.

"Did you know that I have a little sister, too? She lives with my mom, and I never really had a good relationship with her...but just taking care of you reminds me of her, " I expressed.

Mindy enjoyed my little rambles about my family life and my interests.

Dr. Jackson allowed me to stay with Mindy for a while as he was off giving us interns jobs to do and probably working on surgeries.

"Hey, let me see if I could get you something good to eat? Do you like yogurt?" I asked.

Mindy slowly nods her head as I stand up from the chair and walk to the door of the hospital room. The moment my hand reached for the knob, the EKG monitor started to beep. Immediately, I turned around and rush to Mindy's aid. As I rubbed against her chest for a response, she groans in pain, yet she refusing to wake up.

"Mindy? Mindy!" I yell out.

I lower the hospital bed to be completely 180 degrees as I press the "HELP" button before paging, Dr. Jackson. My hands reached over and grabbed a dose of epinephrine and injected it into the IV stick. Unexpectedly, the door of the hospital room barged open as a handful of nurses run in as well as Dr. Jackson. He grunts, "What's wrong?"

I step on the stool beside the bed and started rapid chest compressions against Mindy's chest before answering out of breath, "Possible septic shock. I gave her a dose of epi and waiting for a response." He looks at me for a moment, noticing how determined I was to get Mindy back, before asking one of the nurses, "Give her another dose of epi and 10 of dobutamine. I need an ET tube, prep me for intubation."

I watch as he opens Mindy's mouth with the laryngoscope before sliding the tube through her windpipe and connecting it to the Ambu bag. "Cleo, come bag her while I'll do chest compressions," he demands. We switch positions as I squeeze the Ambu bag while Dr. Jackson did compressions.

I sigh disappointing as our efforts seem to not be working. Mindy's pressure was ridiculously low and she wasn't responding to our treatment. Dr. Jackson looks over to me as I ask, "Should we give her another of dobutamine."He chuckles, "Are you asking me or telling me? This is your patient."

I frown angrily as I didn't have time for his bullshit. Doesn't he see how much this is tearing me apart to see this little girl with full-thickness burns, getting her chest compressed?

I declared brazenly, "Standby with compressions. Give me one more dose of dobutamine and dopamine." His radiant smile gleamed at my sudden burst of assertiveness as I keep pumping air through the Ambu bag.

Five minutes later and there was still no response. Even if we could get Mindy back, her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long. She would be brain dead and I didn't want to cause her any more pain. She suffered enough. The moment she suffered from the septic shock she was gone. Dr. Jackson looks at me and asks sympathetically, "You want me to call it?" I shook my head as tears rolled down my cheeks at my first death.

The only noise in the room was the eerie, unforgettable buzz of the EKG monitor to remind us of the patient's nonexistent heartbeat. I slowly unhook the Ambu bag from the ET tube before looking at the clock and announcing,

"Time of Death. 08:47."

꧁ Don't forget to comment and like! ꧂

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this story so far. I know there's a lot of intro stuff right now, but I promise you it will start to heat up.