#labcoatrumors

The doctor looked over the files he’d been handed, adjusting his glasses as he did so. He nodded and sat the files down, right he could handle that operation. The patient was scheduled to arrive in few days, and it just appeared to be a few stomach tumors. Derek stood up, heading towards his office door.

The endoscope glows bring in the mall tonight Lots of ears to be seen A kingdom of "why the third floor?!" And we have to find the path of honor

The drill is howling like the saw that went inside Couldn't not drill through The patient knows they almost died...

Do you wanna build some bombs?

Come on let's go and blow things up

You're always hiding anymore

I'll blow up the door

It's only four bombs!

We used to be worst enemies

And still we are

I wish you would just die

Do you wanna build some bombs?

Four just isn't enough for me

Naomi: FUCK YOU SANDRA

[text] Oh, Little Guy. I’ve got a nice surprise for you… ;)

The daily routine before work was always about the same. He liked to jazz it up on days off, maybe cook something different for breakfast (what an exciting man) and sleep in a little. Little Guy had a few files that he needed to bring to work; he spent the night trying to fill them out. 

More or less because it would get them a little farther ahead in the case they were dealing with currently, but… Naomi always seemed to li—

The bowl that he had been holding shattered the second it hit the floor. He hadn’t even realized that he had dropped it. A burning, blinding pain wracked his body out of the blue, taking him by surprise. It started off as maybe just a skip in his heartbeat, then evolved into a spreading pain like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen, his blood was burning, the pain in his chest boiled and laced into what might as well be a knife piercing his flesh. 

And then it was gone. No ebbing off, just… gone. Its only remains were a slight headache from the ordeal. Okay. Whatever. He glanced at the clock. It was too late to call in, and it was probably just a passing thing anyhow. Things like that happened with his lungs from all the chemicals he had been exposed to in Delphi. 

He tried to forget that it happened, cleaned up the shattered remains of the poor bowl, and gathered his things to head to work. 

Naomi's morning went about as usual. Shower, make breakfast for herself and Alyssa... the usual. Once Alyssa was on the school bus, she headed off to work. Despite it being early in the morning to most, the case was already on Naomi's mind on the way there. They were just about done, which was her favorite part. Gathering all the evidence was a bit tedious, sometimes, and it could be frustrating when it seemed like they lacked any leads. But once they had most of the evidence gathered, she liked the way that things seemed to fall into place, and then she would find herself able to understand the truth behind their story. That was her favorite part of the job.

Of course, the times when they were gathering evidence, the case would be just as much on her mind if not more, as she was antsy to find any leads that could help them find more information. ...Yes, she had been called a workaholic on more than one occasion. It wasn't exactly like that, though, in her opinion. She was passionate about finding the truth to peoples' stories, and she wanted the murderers to be known and caught as soon as possible. Wasn't it only logical to consider her job so important, considering what it was?

(It didn't help that, until getting Alyssa, she really didn't have much else in her life. Hell, until she let herself accept that she cared about Little Guy, she really couldn't have said she had any friends.)

Hoo boy. It's like grade school all over again, making a note to someone I like.

...Definitely odd. What was he talking about?

You're gorgeous in every sense of the word, and you do know that. There's probably hundreds of men (and women) out there who want to have some sort of relationship with you on that factor alone.

...Alright, then. Well, he wasn't wrong; she knew that much. Probably not women, but definitely many people were interested in her because of that. She couldn't object to that being a fact; her body was one thing that she could at least feel a bit confident about. ...But really, why on earth was he saying this? What was this letter all about...?

But that's not why I wanted to say this. If this was about your body, I could've made that known a long, long time ago.

...Okay, she'd keep reading, if only for the sole reason of the fact that she did respect him enough to feel she ought to. Even if this was making absolutely no sense, and she would have to have a word with him about it later. That could probably constitute sexual harassment, really.

No. There's more to you than that, and I don't think you personally can even see that. You have passion. You care about others, you have goals, you want to be able to do what you love. No matter how you may do it, you enjoy yourself the entire time.

He wasn't wrong. She knew she had passion, cared, had goals... but to her it seemed like it wasn't good enough. Of course it wasn't. So more than anything else, he was right that she didn't see that.

I'm going to give it away right now. Back in Delphi,

No, no... she didn't want to read about that. She didn't want to think about Delphi. She really almost stopped reading there -- this didn't make sense, she didn't understand it, and she had no idea why he was saying these things to her. And most of all, she didn't want to think about their past. ...But he had put up with so many things for her sake (and when had she ever so much as thanked him?), so... somehow, she felt like she owed him to at least read this.

Back in Delphi, I don't think anyone was exactly happy to be there. Everyone had one reason or another to be there. Spite, revenge, vague interest, wanting to be part of something great... But you? You just wanted to operate.

Naomi closed her eyes, trying to push away the memories and stop the tears forming. It was true... The only reason she was there was because it gave her the opportunity to operate again. After she lost her license, she may as well have lost her entire life. And then Delphi... they gave her the opportunity to operate again. Moreover, they wanted her Healing Touch. It was because of that that she had let herself be blinded; she wanted to believe that whatever they were doing wasn't as bad as it seemed, and tried to hold onto that hope as long as she could.

But no matter what her reasons, she shouldn't have let herself believe that. How many people died because of her selfish wishes? When Naomi opened her eyes again, she had to wipe away tears.

It wasn't even about the money anymore. I turned my head several times when you attempted to save someone's life before getting a sample. I only let you operate on the reporter because I wanted to see just how willing you were to help people. You were happy.

She laughed despite herself, through her tears, remembering that operation. How could she forget? It wasn't every day she operated using a penlight as a light source... and then a camera flash... but she had done it, and she had saved his life. And it was true; Little Guy had certainly humored her in that one. Holding the penlight so she could operate on the reporter... she had known it was a ridiculous request, and it was hardly in her contract, but he had humored her through it. She appreciated that, really.

Despite being chased out of your home because of the one thing that you loved so dearly and having it stripped away from you,

...Honestly, she couldn't have put it better herself. Even though it hurt to think about, she still felt a bit... touched, somehow, that he understood her, even if it was about something like that. Or maybe because it was something like that. With her tendency to avoid showing her feelings, and certainly to avoid talking about them, she would never admit how much that had hurt... Well, he had seen it for himself when they first met. Still, paradoxic though it was considering she typically didn't want people to know her feelings, it was somehow comforting to have someone who knew her like that.

you were still happier than most to be in such a wicked and disgusting organization. It was great. It taught me a few things. Maybe life isn't as bad as it seems. It's just really what I make of it.

I didn't even realize I had some stupid crush on you until two years later.

It is what it is.

Naomi (coolly): Thank you for your concern. Now, I have work to do.

Maria (frustrated): Why are you pushing me away?! If it freaked you out or something, just say so, but you can’t just /ignore me/ and expect me to know what you want!

Naomi: You kissed me out of /nowhere,/ Maria; how did you expect me to react?

Naomi kissed the top of Alyssa's head. "Good night, I love you too. Sweet dreams." Standing, she put the book back on Alyssa's shelf, then turned out the light and closed the door.

At that, she went to her own room, intending to read for a few hours. Or at least that was what she told herself. It was her intention -- really, it was. But her mind found itself wandering its usual route: doubting whether she was a good mother, thinking she didn't deserve Alyssa's love when it was her fault the girl had been orphaned in the first place, and then simply feeling crushed by overwhelming guilt. She could put those thoughts aside when she was with Alyssa, but when Naomi was alone, her thoughts about not deserving forgiveness were worse than they had even been right after Delphi. She couldn't stand it.

So instead of going to her room, she found herself in the kitchen. If she were to be honest with herself, she would know that that was most likely where she would end up in the first place; why would tonight be different from the rest of the week? ...Or the week before that... or the week before that... But Naomi was still firmly in the state of denial in which she tried to convince herself she could stop anytime she wanted to, if she actually wanted to. Her failed attempts at doing so were just proof she didn't actually want to.

The fact that she usually drank about twice as much as was needed to feel the effects told a different story, however. This wasn't just having an occasional glass of wine after Alyssa fell asleep anymore... no matter what she tried to tell herself.

It wasn't long until the effects started to kick in. That was where she found herself crying, affected enough to loosen her emotional control but not enough to forget. That was her least favorite part, save for the hangover. That was why she had to keep drinking.

By the time she got up to put the bottle away, she couldn't even walk straight. But she had achieved her goal, in that she was no longer consumed by guilt. For now, at least. Unsteadily making her way to bed, she tried to go over what needed to be done tomorrow in her head to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything... and just started laughing, because there was no way she would be able to remember it now.