The afternoon coffee you had been sipping was gulped in one hot swig when your co-worker ran in, yelling “Y/N! It’s an emergency! You need to hurry!”
The 12-hour shift and its exhaustion were forgotten at the words. Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you were led into the room.
“A young man-he has a bad injury-he’s been shot and his bones are broken too!” she cried.
Looking over, the patient was young. Not too far from your own age in fact. He was groaning in pain. His arm and leg were broken. But you noticed a few gashes here and there. Still bleeding. A lot. But he looked up and kept his eyes on you. As you reached over to see some charts the mysterious man left and what could be known, you felt his eyes and saw him even crane his neck jus to keep an eye out on you.
Maybe I spilled something on my scrubs you thought, dismissing the notion as they wheeled his bed out into the hallway.
“Quick, give me the anesthesia- and a surgeon- we can get the bullet out, but we have to be swift!”
You were handed the pain medicine to give to the patient.
As you put the tube over his mouth, he glanced up at you. His eyes were as green as a field on a picnic day. And you noticed his hair as well-it was cut short but very blonde.
“I…I’m scared…please don’t…” he muttered lowly.
You felt your guts stir at the sound. He was deeply hurt. If he didn’t have the bullet removed, he was a goner.
“What is your name…?” you asked.
“I…do not…have…a name…” he croaked. He turned ghostly white and then pink.
“I…I’m sorry, I should have been stronger…thought I could make that jump…I couldn’t. I’m not that fucking strong…” he muttered.
“Who dropped him off?” you asked your co-worker
“This guy with a beard and this weird voice and then after we got the kid on a bed, he just vanished with all the bills paid already in cash! The guy was loaded!” she gossiped, tugging at her bright pink scrubs.
Turning to the patient, you forced him to look right into your eyes.
“Okay mister, you don’t have a choice. You got lucky someone paid all of your bills, so you better suck it up and be grateful, got it?” you scolded.
He looked at you blankly before you put it right to his mouth and wheeled him to the surgeon’s office.
Two hours later you got word that the boy got lucky. The bullet was found and removed. It wasn’t too deep and nowhere near any vital organs. But he seemed to be ill and needed to be checked up and have his limbs bandaged.
“Here he is…he’s still on the pain medicine some, so he might be a little loopy…” the surgeon warned, before leaving you alone in the room to do your work.
“Hello…I’m Y/N, I’m your nurse…hang in there, you’re gonna be fine…” you said, he seemed half asleep. Almost in another world. There was no reply.
You were checking his blood pressure when his eyes fluttered open. Your head whipped around as you tied the black strap tightly around his arm.
“Hey there…” he croaked out.
“Checking your blood, hold up…” you mumbled, making it tight as possible.
“I must be in a museum…” he said softly.
“Well, I don’t see any Da Vinci any…”
“Because you’re a piece of art.”
Your jaw dropped and your head whipped around to see him. Did that really come out of him? Moments after he was near death.
He gave you a half-smile and you felt a blush creeping up on you and it made you mad. Of all places, this was happening- at work!
Did a patient really just flirt with me? Maybe it’s just my imagination.
You undid the black strap and set it away without a word, writing down the numbers. He reached over and picked up the menu of food options to be ordered for patients.
“Do you know what’s on the menu?” he asked.
“Vegetables. You better order some with your dinner. Eat up, your body’s in bad enough condition…”
“Close, but it’s Me ‘n you.” He added with a devilish grin.
Your jaw dropped. Your ears heard it right alright. You felt them grow hot.
“You know what else is on the menu? This antiseptic,” you ordered.
Walking over to the side and getting an orange bottle and some cotton balls, eyes on his wounds. As you began to apply some to the cuts, the cool guy façade dropped.
“NNNnnnnng, no! No!” he whined. His voice getting a little higher than what was considered manly.
“Just shut up and suck it up, Romeo,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
The next day a woman arrived to check on the patient. A beautiful woman with tan skin and yellow hair with a white suit. You felt envy twinge in your stomach as her heels clicked on the tile floor.
She went into the room. If only you did not have duties currently.
But no, scratch it, you weren’t interested. Not some cheeky patient that was trying to break all the medical oaths in the book. Passing by the room to put away your lunch box, you forced your ears shut at the quiet conversation they had.
As you returned, she left the door of the room. She looked up at you and pointed at you to come near.
“You are nurse Y/N, right?” she asked in a European accent.
“Yes, I am.”
She glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. Then she leaned closer.
“How long have you worked here?” she asked.
You told her.
“Good, you know what you’re doing. We…we just need a bit of help. He’s on… at my company. He got hurt. Badly.” She said softly.
“What caused the wounds? I think he mentioned a jump…” you asked, folding your arms skeptically.
What kind of sketchy company was this that was all hush and made gallons of money where people got shot?
Her pink lips tightened, she glanced to the left and then answered “It was a fall. Bad one. Just…an accident.”
“What’s your name? And what’s his name? Why did he get shot? Was there a shooting at your job?” you asked.
“We would prefer to be anonymous,” she answered coldly.
“For protection. He’s here to get better, right?” she answered with a twinge of annoyed anger.
“Don’t hurt him, then…or make him do anything to hurt himself more…”
She turned around and clicked away, but gave you one look, softened. As if to silently say thank you- even if you did ask questions about whatever this “company” was.
Hours later, you came into the room with the patient. Though you armed yourself to fight off like the black cat with Pepe le Pew, he looked at you and glanced down at his lap. His left arm and right foot were in a cast and he seemed red as a beet in his face. But the light in his eyes was glazed but had dimmed. And he seemed in pain.
His forehead was like a furnace. Sticking a thermometer in his mouth, you watched the numbers rise above healthy at the end. Gently, you pulled it out to put it away.
A half-grin reappeared on his face.
“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” he said.
“No, you got a fever dumbass,” you replied.
You showed him the temperature and he huffed lightly.
“Well, you will have to stay here a bit longer. Injured and sick. It doesn’t seem bad, but it’s still a double whammy. Three or four days…” you said,
He pulled out his free hand to play with his phone, pouting in defeat. You stayed to type into the pad you used for work to keep track of charts.
“Hm, what?” you said, turning around.
“You wanted my name, I’m…I’m Billy…” he confessed.
“Okay, thank you! I can finally call you something other than Romeo,” you jested.
“That’s not a bad name, either though,” he said.
The doctor working on him informed you that his fever did have a chance of breaking in the night. You offered to stay.
“Why Y/N…you’re worried about him?” the doctor asked, cocking her head.
You shook away the creeping blush and smile growing on you.
“I just want the extra hours for pay!” you insisted.
You stayed there, reading with him. You realized what he was doing on his phone- watching movies.
“American movies are the best, like, us on the Pond get all the boring, slow stuff- America is where the real movies are!” he commented when you glanced over.
“Hey- that one’s my favorite!” you cried, recognizing it at once.
Indulging it, you watched the rest of it. Talking about your favorite actors, quoting the lines, and smiling ear to ear by the time the credits rolled by on the tiny screen.
“I was so scared…I was gonna die…” Billy confessed, setting the phone down.
“It’s just medicine,” you scoffed.
“No…when I fell…” he said.
“Really?” you asked, leaving the sarcasm.
“I felt that was it. You see…I…no, I shouldn’t…” he mumbled, looking down.
“You can tell me…” you urged.
“I got a chance to…uh, do something important. It was risky, but it was better than what I had before but I…I thought I was dead for good because I slipped and fell…” he added on.
Recalling the first day, he had a bullet in his body as well. How did that get in there? There was no news you checked of a shooting anywhere.
“And you were shot…how did you get shot?” you questioned.
“I…I can’t tell you everything but I just feel…I can trust you…someone was in danger…and I was trying to get him out and some’ow…I got shot and I fell off…” Billy explained.
“Fell off? Of what?”
“The skyscraper downtown…” he confessed, eyes down to his lap again.
“What! No! That’s a hundred feet high! How in hell are you even alive?” you gasped.
He looked at you and laughed.
“That’s some bad fucking words for a medical professional!” he teased. “But that’s a good question, really…”
Outside the window, a bird sat in the darkness on the pane. Its feathers seemed to glean in the moonlight. It was a clear night, even a sky filled with stars could be seen despite the smoke of the city
“I…I’m glad you survived. I’m glad you didn’t die and so you could- you know- help whoever this person is you were trying to help,” you commented. And this time you smiled back.
“I…I’m glad you were there to help me…dunno what I’ll do next time I’ll fall…”
“I should be there then…”