#interniist

it's not a comfortable feeling, needle piercing skin to close up the wound, yet he didn't utter a word of complaint. truth be told, he was more distracted by the doctor assigned to his treatment, mind wandering to less than innocent places. though, regardless of his response, some company over drinks was a good way to spend the evening. ❝ whaddya say we grab a couple o' cold ones after yer done here? on me. let me thank ya properly. ❞

his  head  shakes,  not  loftily,  purely  matter  of  fact.  jack  does  not.  he  hasn't  wanted  to  be  cared  for  in  years.  maybe  decades.  it  is  foreign  to  him  as  german  or  cantonese.  the  armor  jack  wears  is  thick,  nigh  impenetrable.  any  cracks  are  those  light  only  slips  through  when  he  is  most  vulnerable:  alone.  and  since  conrad  entered  his  life,  loneliness  has  eked  out  and  he  is  free.  happy,  perhaps,  for  the  first  time  since  being  widowed.  that  does  not,  however,  negate  the  fever  under  which  the  attending  physician  operates  and  tries  to  rise  from  bed  to  work  with;  even  if  he  is  lightheaded  and  sweating  just  pulling  a  shirt  on.  he'll  attribute  the  sweating  to  seeing  his  fiance  disrobed  in  their  bed,  if  he  must.  jack  turns,  and,  over  a  beefy  shoulder,  winks  in  conrad's  direction,  saying  in  reply  merely,  ❝  i'm  the  man  of  steel.  ❞

‘what were you expectin’,  all th’patients to be takin’ a big group nap?’    dana had to talk a bit louder to be heard over the commotion in the ed.  every nurse seemed to be talking to a patient,  every doctor to another doctor,  every admin to someone who they should let get back to their job.  dana strolled alongside conrad at a good pace,  looking over a form on a clipboard and signing the bottom before handing it back to one of her staff.  she only glanced at doctor hawkins before she turned her attention up to the screen of patients waiting to be treated.    ‘it’s the end’ve the month,  which means people’re outta money,  outta resources,  and outta meds.  y’better get used to th’timeline of this ed,  hawkins.  be a lot easier if you do,’ @interniist.

"doc," he groans. "you've gotta get me outta here, man. i'm not sure i can take this food another day. your caf needs to hire a professional chef."

❝  if  this  is  just  another  elaborate  scheme to  steal  another  shirt━  ❞  well,  to  be  honest,  that  just  might  work.  it  usually  does.  jack  crosses  the  floor  to  his  dresser,  which  holds  uniformly  folded  clothes  in  each  heavy  wood  drawer.  the  shirt  he  flings  across  the  room  to  conrad  is  intentionally  chosen  to  start  conflict.  jack's  sassy  that  way.  it's  an  army  t-shirt,  on  top  of  sweatpants.  ❝  make  your  choice,  jarhead.  ━army  or  buck  naked.  ❞

the  pacific,  pulse  (he  got  through  five  minutes  of  the  premiere). 

"...but..." there's always a but, and this one comes as she snatches the drink from his hand before any protest can sound, "free caffeine is free caffeine, am i right?"

"the county got underbid again last month.   big shock,  right?   our new boots are horrible.   there’s almost no tread,   and the steel - toe comes halfway up your damn foot.   i'm not the first to take a fall because of these, and i'm sure i won't be the last."