elastic heart

BASICS.

full name: Hope Elise Bailey-Harris  nickname(s): Doc Bailey, Hera (By colleagues who fear her), Apate (By colleagues who want to strike her down)  d.o.b. / age: March 26, 1982 / 39 zodiac: Aries ( ☼ ), Cancer ( ☽ ), Gemini ( ↗ ) gender: Cis Female pronouns: She / Her nationality: Polish American sexuality: Bisexual relationship status: Divorced and Single hometown: Chicago, Illinois occupation: Trauma Surgeon - Specialty Neurology. children: Sawyer and Sage (Twin boys)  pets: Star (Australian Shepherd)

“That usually means you’re probably doing a good job, or emasculating a man. Least in my experience it is.” she smiled a little, though thankfully she didn’t have that much experience. Just in the competitive world of ballet dancing that wasn’t her world anymore, though given Chloe’s current obsession with dancing it soon would be her life again. “Nice to meet you as well, so what do you do for work? With the poison threat I’m thinking, international spy? Female James Bond?”

“Emasculating a man,” Hope repeated as a genuine giggle fell from her lips. “I’d like to say that’s my job, it certainly seems like it’s a part of the draw.” Though the more the other brunette spoke, the more flattered the surgeon became. “Certainly feels like I’m a mission any given moment of my day,” She began. “But I’m a neurosurgeon, right at Kingston Memorial downtown.” She offered the woman a smile before she put in her two cents on what she thought she did for a living. “If you think I’m a Female James Bond, would it be fair for me to say on the contrary you’re some Femme Fatale, always staying one step ahead of the game somehow someway?” 

If the man had taken a bit more time to think about the recourse of his actions, he’d find that he was attracted to people who genuinely loved and hated all at the same time. Maybe it was just people who found a bit of obsession in the things they loved, but also loved to harbor in the eminent fear mongering that they ensured to others. Whatever that personality type was, Oliver seemed to be attracted to those people. Hope wasn’t really any different. “Well, aren’t you just the iciest queen to ever exist,” He teased, knowing that she liked her reputation to be a bit more significant than that. “If I were a sweet, little intern, I’d also stay away from you,” Oliver raised his eyebrows at her, “Bit of a double-edge sword. You’re one of the top neurosurgeons in the Northeastern region, so it’s a bit unfair unless some of the kids can keep up with you. Guess you’ve gotta find someone attracted enough to you that’s willing to spar with you, as well.”

Realizing that the woman was firm on her decision to stay sober, Oliver nodded in agreement of her choice. Definitely a bit of a stubborn ass, even after a few years. “No, not the same thing, unfortunately. But I will let it go this time.” He took a few sips of his own drink, licking his lips at the bitter flavor on his tongue. “Oh, something fun,” He mused, shaking his head. “Personally, I think going to see a movie is fun. Escape rooms are also fun.” He clinked her glass, nodding at it before turning his eyes back up to her. “Drinking before an important conference or meeting is also fun. Thought you were always a bit…” He trailed off, smirking. “More daring.”

“With your imagination, Doctor Jameson, I’m sure it can certainly lead you to whatever promise land it is you’re looking for.” Hope said subtly, ordering her coke as promised and swirling the straw around. His words entered in through one ear and out of the other, she wasn’t really one to care about much else when she was in her wards or in the OR. She couldn’t give two shits who looked like they were chiseled from the finest stone or who she could have imagined herself domineering if given the chance, when she was on her game at work, that was a high that she chased that garnered her enough to feel in control, in her own power. If she started faltering into the gossip that was spoken behind closed curtains, anything that wasn’t what a stone-cold person she was, she would simply have to ask for a transfer out. Meddling with coworkers and playing dumb games that would put her integrity on the line was off-limits, but anything that happened outside of the parameters? Oliver knew full well that was a fair game. 

She smirked at his literal explanation of things that were fun. Though she couldn’t help but feign a bored expression as she leaned onto her right hand, pale cheek touching her palms. “Maybe I just miss the ambience of whatever swanky hotel bar they usually holed us up in. Don’t you remember?” She asked, as she brought the straw to her lips and took a sip of her drink. She was sure that he did, considering last years tryst. “The interns say you’ve been seeing a pouty little thing though, I heard he’s in tech?” 

“Yeah, I did that a few times it’s not fun. Unsteady hands and headaches, they were dark times.” she chuckled, having almost cut a client her hands were shaking so bad she had tried to cut back on the amount of caffeine she had had since then. “It’s definitely not, I wouldn’t do that I don’t even know why I joked about it honestly,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m Liv, by the way.”

Shifting in her seat slightly, Hope offered Liv a smile and braced her hands around the offered peppermint mocha, still warm enough with its chocolatey and peppermint aroma taking hold. “Joke or not, I unfortunately have heard it plenty of times in my line of work, though mainly as threats.” Hope began before she took a sip of the drink. It was heavenly of course and probably the most superior drink for the winter season. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Liv, I’m Hope.” She continued.

The temporary loss of his license existed as an unwelcome turning point; a fracture right through the middle, unable to be resolved by one act alone. As if the sequence had been manipulated by time-lapse, he can recall the moment second by second. The smell of new leather, his reflection in a polished oak table, a cluster of framed images all possessing mother and child. He had remembered them and stored them somewhere at the forefront of his skull, ensured they would be tied up with an apology directed towards the very man who seized his livelihood. Whilst some would furrow their brows at the thought, they were equally unaware of how close temporary could soon morph to a permanent reality. Thus, spewing distorted truths, hiding the liquor just out of sight and sending frequent Christmas gifts to the family were all part and parcel with begging for forgiveness.  Though, as he searched for a present for the child, his view had grown distorted behind a brunette -  his eyes surveying her momentarily before he opted to make his presence known.     “Not at all, Sweetheart.” He shook his head in response, the thin lines of his forehead creasing. “Y’see, secret between you and me: I was born with x-ray vision. Comes in handy in moments just like this.”

Her immediate reaction was to purse her lips. She’d had to meet up with strangers no matter what it was she doing personal or business, but what really grinded Hope’s gears? Pet names. Especially sweetheart. She’d done well with having a heart made of stone after all these years and if there was anything that she aiding when it came the rumors about her? She thrived in knowing she was anything but sweet. “I don’t like holding secrets with people I barely know, seems off-kilter.” She replied flatly, moving away from the display to offer the man the space to peek through where he needed to so long as he wasn’t imagining what she assumed he would be based on his state. X-Ray vision? She’d been around plenty of colleagues who’d made that same joke but for radiology terms, which was why she couldn’t help offering a saccharine smile as she said, “Is it handy enough to tell you how many bones I have in my body?” 

Closed starter for Hope | @hopebailey Location | Gelato Dolceria 

So far he had managed to avoid Hope like she was the plague ever since he had walked away from her in the hospital. Luckily there were other Carido attending’s who had either taken pity on him or wanted a chance to hit on Hope meaning they took any opportunity for the two of them to interact, either way he didn’t care he was just grateful.  Jonah couldn’t cope with having to deal with that. Not after he’d argued with his mother about it too. Something about being graceful and kind, about not shutting of his rational brain even if his heart said otherwise. He knew where she was coming from, as a mother, but he wanted her on his side, and his side alone and given she seemed to at least want him to entertain Hope - well he wasn’t speaking to her either right now. 

Luckily enough for him Rachel was still firmly on his side and was happy to take care of her nephews, help him keep them entertained whilst he was off for a few days and share the load of their sugar high. What he would do without his big sister he really didn’t know. “Sage, get your sticky hands over here.” The male barrelled with laughter as he chased his son from the ice cream parlour, reaching for the hands his child was currently pretending shot webs as Rachel carried out Sawyer on her back, one twin much calmer than the other. Just as he scooped him up though and the wipe caught a tiny hand in his own he froze as he saw her, watching the four of them from across the road. Sage must have felt it, the boy stopping his giggles to look at his dad with worry in their matching blue eyes. “Dad, do you need Spidermans help?” He asked quietly as he looked back across at the lady in question and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder and his sisters voice sounded in his ear. “I’ll take the boys home. Sage come on, you think you can race me back to the car?” Luckily it was enough to distract both twins who suddenly wanted to race, Jonah not able to watch them as he watched Hope watch them instead. 

Her sheer need to have gelato even when the temperatures were getting frigid was a conundrum but one that Hope had to explore. Settling into this new life in Kings Head Harbor had so far been going according to plan. Even with Jonah’s chagrin about her ‘thinking’ about existing wherever he was, the truth of the matter was, her ex-husband could have wished for her to never reappear again but it wouldn’t necessarily mean the sentiment would come true. Hope knew she was a person with or without Jonah, and she sure as hell would never start living as if she needed his approval, ever. The bitter feelings that came from him though weren’t unwarranted and on any day where she wasn’t feeling as tenacious she would have agreed with the situation they found themselves in where she was rightfully put in the dark about their boys while Jonah got to play and be a doting father who had been wronged by an absent Hope. There were still things Hope wished she could have told him, or even asked him at this point. How long did he plan to villainize her? She certainly understood that her transgression during their marriage was a non-starter for most couples, but how long could he hold on to the grudge? 

It was rare for her mind to go completely blank, and Hope thrived on having answers and alternatives if the first conclusion was a no-go, but figuring out what to get two just over the toddler aged children was confounding at best. Perusing the aisles filled with stuffed animals, toy trucks, dress-up costumes, and even lego sets, her heart wasn’t sure what to grab that would carry the burden of just how sorry she was to have missed out on five years worth of birthdays, holidays that ranged from Easter, to Fourth of July, Thanksgivings, and even the most important one to some coming up: Christmas. Looking at the latest display for a new spiderman collection, Hope couldn’t help but wonder, would this be information she could handle learning as time went by? What would Sawyer like and Sage absolutely hate? Did they both have the same interests? Or maybe they were different in some ways. She hadn’t realized her hand was on the glass when someone had tapped her on the shoulder. “Oh!” She exclaimed, “Sorry, was I in your way?” 

The moment was gone as soon as it arrived and he was glad for it. He could tell that the people around them were watching, and he knew that the director had parked himself in the gallery to watch - no doubt spying to see if his Head of Cardio and what had assumed was the hew Head of Neuro were going to get along. He had not had his hands in a woman’s chest cavity he might have been more concerned with the idea himself. All he needed to do right now was to get through this and make sure that this person lived. That his brain was no where other than on this surgery, it was the oath he had promised. Letting her take charge was easy, she had been like this their whole medical career, this need to prove herself and he knew why, he knew she was fighting a battle in her field that he would never be able to relate too. Besides, his ego wasn’t fragile enough to worry about her taking over one surgery. “Seems we did.” 

Once they were out and he was left in the hall way he couldn’t help but watch as she pulled the surgery from herself, leaving him in a conflicted mind set, half of him wanted to march to the chiefs office and demand that she was gone or he was out of the door and he wouldn’t be back, the other half of his was routed to the spot he was in until his feet were moving him closer. 

“You know, I should be surprised that you’re here, but you always did seem to hold little regard for my feelings Hope. I built my life again without you and whilst I respect you as a surgeon you have no right to walk in here the way you did today. Not unless you’re still trying to destroy me.” He hadn’t talked much through the divorce, the drinking had still been a problem and had it not been for her lack of interest and his mothers support, plus his stellar medical record he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep the boys in his state. Now though he had a clear mind and everything she had once made him feel came rushing back. “I know you never made me drink, but you broke me Hope, I couldn’t fix you when I was so used to fixing everyone else and then you just gave up. I almost lost everything because of you, you have no right to even think about existing around me, not here not anywhere.” Would she taint people? Remind them of the broken man he had been when he arrived? Did he really deserve that?

Here was the thing when it came to her nickname being something akin to an ice queen, it held the insinuation that she was unreachable. No rhyme, no reason, no emotion, she simply moved along to wherever the current took her, and for a while that probably was true. Jonah’s bitter words took her back to the corner that she had to revisit over the past few sessions with her therapist, an outlet she had finally allowed herself even when Jonah had tried all those years ago. It was true that he had caught the signs of her deterioration, her withdrawal, an effect of giving life to their boys. Maybe they’d simply taken the part of her that made her whole before and split it amongst them. 

Losing herself in that darkness was something she let take her without a single ounce of a fight in her body. Though she had studied tooth and nail to know how to battle in the OR, this was one sector medically that she couldn’t get a grip on, so maybe that failure was a huge part of her hesitation. It didn’t excuse her choices, not by a long shot, but it was her broken pieces that she had to learn to mend without Jonah who had broken apart from her own undoing. 

It was strange, looking at him now and wondering how they had let themselves get that dependent on each other. Was love always supposed to be like? Or was it just their doomed love that caused situations such as this? “I never asked you to fix me,” Hope said softly, though with conviction. “But I lost my mind back then and it’s not an excuse to tell you to excuse how shitty I was.” She kept her gaze on him then, strong, tried and true. “Just because you’d will my existence away from you and anywhere else in the world, doesn’t mean it’ll come true.” 

She straightened her back then, crossing her arms together as she said firmly, “I won’t be pushed out of here because the position is too good to pass up. It’s everything I’ve worked for, without you. If you take that from me, you’ll feel like you’ll have been vindicated, I’m sure. But could you look at Sawyer and Sage again with an ounce of pride if you ripped my livelihood from me?” Hope knew it was a low blow, probably the wrong foot to start if she wanted to get in with the beautiful boys she’d left behind all those years, but that was a conversation she would get into with Marianne to start, Jonah was too far into his bitterness with her for her to try. 

She walked over to Jonah then, landing shoulder to shoulder parallel to him. “Get used to the way real life works Jonah, this isn’t some soap opera that’s going to get resolved in the blink of an eye. You said so yourself you worked back up without me. You’ve got your department and I’ve got mine. Your job security is safe because I’d never threaten that. Even now that you’ve threatened mine twice. But, do what you see fit. I suppose.”

His brain switched the second he stepped through the sliding doors, hands reaching to wrap his mask around his face, scrub cap firmly in place as he did so as he took up his position as the scrub station. Standing here with Hope wasn’t different, only this time there was no silver chain and dangling rings around their necks to keep their rings away from the scrubbing they were doing. His hands no longer even had a small dint from where his ring had been. A surgery like this would normally have his brain firing a million miles an hour as he rationed what they were going to do once they were in there whilst he remained nothing but a picture of calm on the outside. Now though, he felt as if everything was going in slow motion. 

Even as they moved through to the OR and the nurses gowned him, fitting his head lamp. Everything was so surreal, being stood opposite Hope again. Letting her take the lead Jonah watched her work, he had managed to patch the puncture in the woman’s lung and as far as they could see there was nothing impacting on the heart, just a branch lodged right next to her spine and how they, or rather she, took this out was going to impact whether or not this poor woman could ever work again. His hard work wouldn’t kick in till it was out and he went in to make sure everything was patched up, no more holes and blood was flowing without throwing any stats of. Jonah just had to wait for Hope first. 

As she looked at him he knew what she needed from him, what she was looking for. He’d seen that look from her a million and one times before in the future. When they had been ready to go into their boards together. When she had done her first solo surgery, and he had watched on from the gallery ready to give her any advice she might have needed and he could call it down to her, he’d not ended up offering any medical advice, just a little inspiration. The same he had given her when she had been in the hospital about to push out their boys. Her dark orbs looking at his own now told him exactly what she needed so for the first time in years he found himself uttering a familiar phrase. “All it needs is a little bit of Hope.” 

As soon as the phrase left Jonah’s mouth, there was a part of her that was grateful she had on her full attire, face mask included to hide any facial weakness. The man that she needed, that had disappeared just as swiftly as the former part of herself had slipped through the cracks, suddenly and if only for a moment had stood across from her in the OR.  She makes the decision to take the risk, one that lowers the patient’s levels just slightly before things are stabilized once again. It came with the line of their work, a never ending game of choices some of which could have proven to be fatal whether that was fate’s will or human error, but for Hope, she couldn’t stand to make errors, at least not in her career. When it came to her personal life, she knew her mistakes would haunt her for the rest of her days, just like she would be haunted by this reminder of what was. 

Eyes dropped back down, moving now with more cadence as she asked for more levels, assessing more of the damage and going right to work on making sure that the road to recovery would be possible. Soon enough, with the proper stitches, bandaging, and levels being right where she felt comfortable enough to call it, her eyes met Jonah’s once more before she spoke, “Seems we’ve succeeded, Doctor Harris.” Then she was eyeing the rest of the team surrounding them, “Please prep for transport to ICU, we’ll need the file to be updated and let the family know in an hours time the good news.” 

Without another word, the team followed her exact orders, and soon enough the instruments used were being whisked away for sterilization. Hope stood with her backed turned to Jonah as she held her hands up, feeling her gloves being removed, the back of her dressings coming undone, and soon enough she was out of the OR and into the unit where she could properly breathe a sigh of relief, followed by frown at the momentary bout of weakness that struck down on her being. She had gotten out into the open hallway, her hand gripped onto her scrub cap, and soon enough she could tell he was present. 

“Whether or not you welcome me is your choice. But know that I don’t have to prove my right to be here.” 

“Life, mostly. I started a new job, and I think my boss is too understanding? I go stir crazy pretty easily, and he would have made me stay home or sit for, like, a week straight. So I tried to put it off for a bit. Plus, my little Sister had three different secret santa parties to go to this year,” Ivy rambled, trying to keep her mind off what was happening around her knee. She most certainly took Dr. Bailey’s advice, staring directly into the poster as if it held the secrets of the universe. It was just some dumb poster, poorly done drawing on it to boot, but it was a good distraction all the same. “Hey, is that kid alright by the way? I didn’t think it looked so bad, but I only ever saw it in the shower, really.” She figured her knee was coming out of this in one piece with how calm the doctor seemed to be, but maybe she was better at hiding it as a seasoned professional.

The doctor paused for a moment, almost slightly taken aback though she kept her composure as she zeroed in on the task at hand. The removal would be done in just a few moments, the art of it being something that Hope could have done now with her eyes closed, but for the sake of not freaking out the patient, she stayed vigilant and productive as she listened to Ivy speak about her week, her situation. “Sounds like an ideal scenario to have a boss who gets it doesn’t it?” Hope chimed in. Though for her personally she hated the notion of ‘things could be worse’, so she kept that sentiment to herself just as she finished up. “You healed up quite well, there should be minimal scarring, just be mindful to get ointment on the lining to reduce any change of inflammation or infection.” As for the student in residency? Hope could only chuckle as she shrugged. “They’ll come to eventually, but they may want to reconsider their alignments on what they can or can’t handle here.” 

The blood inside of her does not know how to rest. She can feel it turning within her and when the meeting concludes she feels it turning still. She wills it to quiet, to settle somewhere at the base of her skull, but this new cycle of events prompts her to brace for impact. It is with Jonah that her hesitation disintegrates - she knows that whatever comes from them is something which needs to be addressed. Before it rots her profession from the inside out. Complicated things have existed for her and she has endured them all the same. Yet, her work, her skill, her passion, it is all far too important to simply allow it to unravel without ensuring it is done within her own control. God forbid the stairwell incident creeps out into the open. God forbid Hope discovered Cora and Jonah as they were without some semblance of understanding that where Cora is - where she stands with a scalpel in hand - is her own doing. Not the doing of a tumultuous sexual relationship with a surgeon higher in rank. God forbid hope brands her as undeserving just as Cora had presumed her ex-husband had done so recently.           It didn’t take a genius to tie the threads together to produce a solid knot. They both shared the same name, they both stood at the helm of the rumours, they both resembled the children Cora had apprehensively met. Another fact which unnerved her. These were all elements which accumulated into her presence within this very vicinity. Observing Hope as if this professional relationship could be a step closer towards true success. After all, the life of a surgeon was all Cora ever truly wanted. Anything else just simply occurred.        “It is,” she smiles promptly, it’s warm, yet it disperses just as quickly as it arrived. Her frame obeys, perching atop an offered chair, one leg dangling over the other like a pendulum. Blue eyes observe the woman’s features momentarily. She’s a woman to admire. “If I’m overstepping, tell me to get out. It’s not my intention.” She swallows. The words are on her tongue as she smooths the edges. An inner notion pleading to not overstep. “I need you to know that whilst I’m aware of your ex-relation to Dr. Harris, I don’t care for it. I’m a professional and his longevity within this hospital doesn’t mean that you don’t have an ally. I want to be in trauma, I’m good at trauma but I’d be an idiot to let myself be deterred from the guidance of an excellent surgeon.”

Is it nerves or was the blue-eyed beauty studying her? Either way, it initiates an unofficial match in Hope’s mind. It didn’t come to a surprise anymore when she found people searching for answers about her. In fact she was more than amused to hear theories about how her heart didn’t exist, how she was probably bionic with the way she operated and made split second decisions without missing a beat. How she had a demeanor when she was in front of patient’s that was as warm as the sun on a summer day, but how she could turn as cold as a the worst winter night imaginable to any who crossed her. Did she mean to have such a reputation? To survive and hold onto the passion that had brewed in her for all of these years, absolutely. At the end of the day, she knew how cut-throat their field could be. Being taken seriously meant sacrifice, something that Hope knew all too well. She’d given up on a semblance of her peace, her marriage, the opportunity to be a mother to her boys, the chance to be anything but the stone-cold queen she was when she was in the OR. Her throne was cushioned with plenty of lumbar support, but sometimes it was exhausting looking upon all those who would sooner drag her back down. 

Cora didn’t seem to land in that mold of envy, not yet at least. Though was there a lot to envy? If she hadn’t thickened her skin as hard as she had, Hope might have wanted to run out of her office and run for the nearest pharmacy to see where she could get some skin firming creams. But instead, she held her own, hands clasped together as she canted her head to the side. In some ways, she felt like she was looking at a less hardened version of herself. There was ambition, tenacity, and of course the laurels of being straightforward. At least she had given Hope the option to kick her out if she wanted to, but Hope found herself not wanting to at all in this case, in fact, she respected Cora for subjecting them to the elephant in the room. 

“I’m curious about the term ally, Doctor Covington. What about my work speaks to you as being the lifeline to keep you afloat? I know firsthand that you’re only as strong as the allies that you keep, Doctor Harris certainly has his own merits, as I do mine.” She said. “Though I would say you’d stand to learn more from me because I’ve walked the line you’re trapezing right now. Does it scare you? Are you able to eliminate that fear? To know what you have to let go of when the time comes or if it calls for it?” Hope was speaking generally, though it was the first bit of consult she could relay for now. 

The sound of the bottle cap flying to the floor reckoned through the bar, his eyes landing back on Hope as he took hold of the bottle. “Interns are usually helpful, I find,” Oliver hadn’t been stationed at Kings Head for long, but he found it quite approachable as far as hospital settings went. It wasn’t overwhelming like a lot of the bigger facilities, and he understood more of the way the place functioned. It helped that he really only did a few surgeries in the morning, his afternoon rounds, and spent the rest of his time settling between appointments and the ER, depending on where he was most needed. His eyes settled on her glass, inching up back to her serene smile that he could tell was a bit forced. “I wasn’t completely aware that he was there. Focusing a bit more on the care of our patients, not the whereabouts of your ex-husband. Well, I guess I’m not focused on his whereabouts anymore.” He cleared his throat a bit, his eyes shifting down to the wooden bar top. His tone was a bit teasing as he took a hefty sip from the bottle. 

Oliver should have definitely thought about drinking before he figured he’d go back to his shift in a few hours. But one couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure if you got enough alcohol in you, the meeting would probably go better than expected. Maybe your colleagues would see you’ve loosened up and you’re not so…,” He smirked at her, “Stiff.” It was easier to be friends with her than it was to be involved, but he found their banter to be rather playful. “Drinks on me if you promise to not scare the first year nurses at rounds, and you actually smile while giving patients happy news.”

It was a feeling Hope knew she couldn’t take for granted, having a colleague being on her side despite the icy exterior she had to put on in order to garner the reputation she’d built for herself. “It’s funny, one of the interns asked me why they called me ice queen back in residency,” Hope mused. “I had to tell them it wasn’t because I was hand delivering ice cups to patients who want something to chew on. Right before I zeroed in and asked is that the future they want?” A humorlessly laugh fell from her mouth. It was hard being questioned about her demeanor sometimes, but Hope tried her best to keep her personal affairs out from the one true thing that she had control over and would fight tooth and nail to keep pristine. “It seems my reputation precedes me, and I don’t think I have much intention to stop it.” She chuckled softly again. He was partaking in his beer, though Oliver was sensibly at least from the few interactions they had had, he appeared sensible. “You were right to keep your focus there,” Hope sighed, “I hoped too but I didn’t think it’d be such a slap in the face regroup. I haven’t seen the man in five years.” 

And her children in that same time frame. Her finger mindlessly swirled circles on the wooden tops of the bar, declining the alcohol once more. “Would it help if I had a coke and you could pretend it was coke and rum?” Hope teased. “If I’m already this stiff, a stiff drink won’t do either of us any favors.” She ordered a coke then, and turned her gaze back over to the surgeon. “Tell me something fun.” 

Ivy had always assumed that she was someone with a weak stomach. She had never done well with blood or anything medical before, but the stitches weren’t too bad to deal with. It had been gross at first, and she couldn’t watch them put them in, but she had gotten used to them by now. At least, she thought it wasn’t so bad until the attending that was supposed to remove them fainted at the sight. Ivy had been staring down at her knee trying to figure out if there was something wrong, or if it really was just the fresh faced Doctor struggling to cope with the sight, though she hoped that it was the latter. She couldn’t afford to handle complications. She glanced up as a new Doctor walked in, much more calm and collected than the last. She shook the extended hand, and nodded. “Yeah, finally. I’m excited to get rid of them, they’ve been a pain.” 

With a gentle smile, Hope nodded in agreement. Ivy must have been getting crazy uncomfortable especially now that her body had done what it needed to do and regenerated back to healing. “Just let me take a look at your character real quick to confirm details,” Hope said as she multi-tasked with ease, finding a pair of gloves while eyeing Ivy’s chart. The stitches seemed to be a long overdue affair, “Sorry we couldn’t get you in sooner, or did life hold you back?” She asked curiously, grabbing the necessary instruments and noting the woman’s face. “If it’s easier,” Hope began, “You can look at the motivational poster right behind me, I find it helps when you need to distract away from not wanting to see something.” She encouraged. “It might feel like a tug, but I promise I’ve been told my hands are quite gentle.” 

LOCATION: coffee shop STATUS: open { @kingsheadstarters​ }

“Oh no, I only ordered one–” Olivia had tried to protest, but she failed, and the waitress waved off the woman’s attempt to return the spare peppermint mocha that she had in her hand, merely stating that it would waste if she returned it and to enjoy the free drink. But, too much coffee would send her skyrocketing into chaos with too much caffeine and sugar. She sighed, and glanced around before smiling at a person near her hopefully, “Peppermint Mocha? I was given a free one but drinking two isn’t a good idea.” she smiled softly, “Not poisoned, I swear.”

Being in Kings Head was precipice in of itself, but her first week had gone by and Hope felt like she was lucky to have survived it. Then again, after the horrors of what she’d gone through during residency she was sure she’d adapted herself to having thicker skin. Despite that skin though, her bones felt weary, black coffee didn’t seem to be cutting it anymore. A soft voice lulls her away from her reports when she sees the sugary and extra caffeinated offering. “It’s a fantastic idea if you’re trying to stay alert, or crash from the sugar later.” She laughed softly. “If you promise it’s not poisoned, I’d love to indulge.”