#shculdbeafraid

                 “ Since you’re LATE, I take you’re buying the first round? ”  she says, one eyebrow lifting in amusement.

          the evenings following recitals are always exhausting but full of interesting interactions.  diana is lucky in the sense that she genuinely enjoys people and socializing.  she often reflects that she would be in the wrong business if she didn't, but then she remembers just how many of her colleagues are poor hosts or lackluster conversationalists.

          at the present, she's been chatting with a man who's introduced himself as damien.  he's charming.  she supposes that there are women who would fall easily for him.  however, she finds his appearance somewhat off-putting.  his features are striking, but not in a way that she would necessarily find compelling or attractive.  he's too ... intense, for lack of a better word, but she's kind and indulges him.

5 TEXTS ALANA DIDN’T SEND AND 1 SHE DID.STATUS: SELECTIVE YES

[TXT: SARA] you worry me on a constant basis

[TXT: SARA] and i feel how deep in that worry I am and frankly my worry for my worry is worse than the worry I feel at its base

[TXT: SARA] I just want you to be okay and to understand you are far more than the weapon you’ve led yourself to believe you are

[TXT: SARA] I just want you to feel like you can prove yourself in so many more ways than just this one

[TXT: SARA] I wish you understood how worthy you are of so much more than what you expect of yourself 

       “ thanks for that captain obvious and no you don’t get to know what happened. “ it’s the same speech over and over again. just with slightly altered versions. she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t have to be but wounds with gushing blood said otherwise. sara couldn’t blame it on a motorcycle accident this time but luckily it was a familiar face working in the er that night. “ anything else you’re like to point out right now? like how it’s dark outside or that i’m blonde? just want to make sure all our bases are covered before i ya know pass out or something. just as a heads up. “

       “hey-- -- can’t you be a little more charitable to the one sewing you          up? i mean  almost half of these idiots aren’t, but you? my regular?”

    sara’s been here often enough on her er shifts it’s only become more of a gamble for     her than anything when an ambo pulls up  to their front doors. even the nurses know.     no matter  how  busy  the  night,  as  long  as miss lance shows up-- thirteen’s pager      goes off. lips  tugging  at  a  smile,  those  nimble  fingers  work at the bandage she’s      trying unwrap as the hospital fades into the background. 

i apologize on behalf of canadians for not uploading the ep sooner haha.

Half a ravaged face quirks upward in worry. It’s the side that’s been sharply damaged by a sharp, sharp knife and made into an otherwise sharp scar, mottled cheek that upturns like an ugly smile. A couple have asked her if Joker had given it to her. No, it was not a gift from Patient J. Nonetheless, she focuses on the young woman.

Vigilantes. The city’s crawling with them.

(If she had the means, she thinks she’d take it up, herself.)

“Are you alright?”

The good doctor, after all, took a hippocratic oath. She has a responsibility.