Ben always had an overwhelming sense of dread whenever they brought in patients straight from car accidents, which felt like a cruel joke he'd played on himself by chosing emergency medicine as his practice field. Ten years of ER, in NYC of all places, and one would think he'd be desensitized by now, and he was to a certain degree. Still, seeing people coming in exactly like he had once, over ten years ago, felt more or less like a punch in the gut. Every single time. And it also made him wanna fight, like someone once had for him.

He'd stabilized the patient, a 30-something woman, and assessed her right before his shift ended and he handed her over to the other teams. And he'd gone home, though he found it hard to close his eyes and think of anything else, like his job was far from done until she walked out of the hospital. She'd seemed not too bad. Stable. Neuro had said she was responsive, neurological reflexes ok, which'd felt like a bucket of relief pouring over his head. Spinal injury unlikely.

Still, it didn't stop him from wheeling his ass over to her bedroom the next day, to see for himself how she was doing. Ben knocked on the doorframe. "Excuse me." He looked at her, looking much better in the daylight than the previous night. "I'm Doctor Blake. We've met but you were unconscious." He joked with a smile, placing her chart on his lap and getting closer. "I just popped over to see how you're doing."