Do No Harm

Clinic nights were the bane of her existence.  Or really, the existence of every medical professional who were assigned to them.  Why couldn't people hurt themselves, or become deathly ill, during the daylight hours?  One way or another, here she was, yawning as she passed the tenth hour of this shift, jaw cracking. At least it was slow; a new moon usually meant that no one did anything particularly stupid, and other than the sprained wrist from a drunk girl who fell off a subway station, there was nothing particularly interesting tonight; a lot of bladde infections, weirdly enough.  Asa yawned again, at the nurse's desk, reading over the files of those meant to come in tomorrow for surgeries, or whose prescriptions had come up. Best to be prepared.

Asa was sitting on an empty gurney in the hallway, taking five seconds to relax and breathe, stop shaking hands that wanted badly to light a cigarette, mind reeling in the death of the crash victim who had come in two hours before and who the whole team had worked so hard to save.  She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck,  when the alert went through the halls; new entry, vital emergency.  And with that, she steeled herself, put her work face on, and headed to the waiting room to accept the new patient.

It was her day off, and after sleeping in (6am) she went for a run, headphones on in the early dawn.  The cool air and the dim light was as good as a salve for her, bringing the stress down while she evened her breathing.  The streets were abandoned, so it was a surprise to find a man standing casually in the sidewalk.  Brown hair braided down her back, she frowned, blinking at the man.  Something seemed off about him.