- - - NOTHING WRONG

[TAVISH LACHLAN CAMPBELL]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:450px; height:500px; border-radius: 50 50 50 50; background-color:#464646; border-left: #0CA1E8 10px solid; border-right: #0CA1E8 10px solid;] you would never turn around you're turning everything upside down - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THIS IS TAGGED FOR mel with cass AND IS 675 WORDS LONG. HE'S LOOKING GOOD IN THIS LITTLE NUMBER AND I WOULD JUST LIKE TO ADD NOTHING. THAT IS ALL. Sometimes Tavish seriously questioned his own intelligence. He made such horrible choices sometimes and sometimes those horrible choices resulted in a trip to the emergency room. One would think after what happened the first time he played around in a construction site he would learn to avoid them, but no. Him and a friend had decided a building site would be a great place to ride their bikes, and it had been all fun and games until Tavish had wiped out and been thrown through a recently installed window to whatever it was they were building. He was lucky enough that there was no alarm system set up yet but unlikely enough that it resulted in a few scrapes and a chunk of glass sticking out of his thigh. As if that leg hadn’t been through enough already now he needed to add being stabbed to the list of things “stumpy” has been through. While Tavish lacked common sense a lot of the time he had more than enough sense in his head not to pull the chunk out. That would only result in even more bleeding than there was already so he simply took the bandanas his friend kept wrapped around his thighs and tucked into his pocket. One wrapped around the glass and one wrapped around his own thigh to keep it steady. They walked his bike to his house, which hadn’t been far, and then to the emergency room he went. Several hours of waiting later Tavish was finally brought into a hospital room by a nurse, going over the mundane bits of his reason for being there. The nurse helped him out of his pant leg but the other stayed on, the leg draped over his other. His sock was tucked into his shoe on the floor and his prosthetic was resting against the table he was sitting on. The stumpy leg bent so the glass was sticking out at an angel that didn’t risk ripping it out accidentally. He kept pressure on it while he waited with nothing to really do except look at anything and everything in the little room. The typical things one would find in a room. Blood pressure machine, the thing to look in ears and noses, tongue depressors, a computer, and so on and so forth. The only thing worth noting was one of those tacky paintings of a kid at the doctor’s that made him want to throw it into a bonfire. He simply waited with a series of exasperated sighs trying not to focus on the pain and the bleeding. Keeping pressure on and try not to die of boredom. Helen wasn’t going to be too impressed with him, as he most likely needed stitches, but oh well. She’d grown used to his antics by now and for the most part just sort of accepted that he was still a delinquent. Tavish did feel guilty for all of the stuff he put her through. She put a lot on the line for him and all he had done for the first year of living with her was make life miserable. He wasn’t very good at dealing with people who cared about, and it had been the same with Helen. He hadn’t trusted her so when she finally cracked down and showed him she wasn’t going to give up on him he stopped trying so hard to fuck it up. Which had turned out pretty well, he supposed. He’d been adopted and she countlessly dealt with his moods and his medical bills. Just as he started to dive deep into thought the door opened and such topics were washed away, replaced by the reminder that his leg fucking hurt. “Please tell me you’re here to take this out my leg because it kind of puts a dampener on my fetching appearance.”

[/color] The sarcasm was very evident and for multiple reasons. He didn’t actually find himself attractive at all. It was quite the opposite but that was a whole other story all together.

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and tryin' to put the blame on me but now

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that I'm a superstar you always want to hang around & act like you did

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[cassandra n. dostoevsky]

'Cos every little thing, is gonna be alright
Yes every little thing, is gonna be alright
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry This was all that could really run through Cassandras mind as she rushed down the streets of Maryland to try and reach the hospital. Wrapping up her ballet class a little late had been a huge, huge mistake even when it had seem like she had good enough time to make it to the hospital in time. Usually Cassandra was perfectly good at being on time, because the girl disliked being late, no matter what the even she had to go to was, she loathed being late. Now, however, it seemed she was going to be doing just that as she felt like her car was not moving fast enough, either that or everyone around her seemed to just to be the slowest drivers ever. Cassandra refused to blow the horn, she had never found that to be useful, adding to that that the noise was rather annoying to her she could not bring herself to do it. Making her way slowly to the hospital -or so it seemed in her eyes- it was no surprise that the young woman wanted nothing to do but the push everyone to the side and leave the entire road to herself. It was strange for this to be happening, but for once she had managed to enjoy the ballet class she had been instructing, it had been refreshing if you will to loose herself in the music and very rarely did that managed to happen. Now, however, Karma seemed to be showing her what was to happen when she allowed such behavior and punishing her with being late. Some might say it is not much but in her eyes and heart it certainly was. "It's just one time, it can't be that bad" she told herself as she finally saw the hospital building ahead of her, quickly moving to search for a parking spot. A small sigh escaped her lips while she pushed the door open and moved out of the car, walking as fast as she could without running into the large building. She smiled a little at the head nurse who just gave back a smile. However the smile meant a bit more of a 'Relax, girl' kind of feeling to it and it actually helped her do just that. There was nothing to worry about she could make this happen quickly. All she had to do now was change into her scrubs and then everything would be fine. Yes, all would be fine.

Cassandra was now inside the changing room, slipping out of her 'work' clothes and into the scrubs that she was now so familiar with. Her locker door was open and she could see several things in there. With time she had come to actually set a few things in there that never left but to be honest she hadn't don much with the little box. It was then that she heard a noise, just as she finished slipping on her shirt. "Hey, Cassandra, hurry up" she turned to see Alexandra, one of the girls she actually got a long with and with a smile she nodded to later see the other girl leave the room. With a sigh Cassandra threw her clothes inside the locker before closing the little door, hearing a slight click that let her know it was now closed. "OK...you can do this" she whispered to herself before turning around. She hadn't sleep much, but this was sort of a good way to prepare her for when she had double shifts, she just needed to keep reminding herself that and she would be fine with it all. There was a slight sigh leaving her lips as she stepped out of he changing room, her feet slowly taking her to the ER until she had to stop, there was always so much people in here that it amazed her to see everyone around. "Hey, what do you got for me?" she asked as she moved closer to the front desk and she soon saw a nurse walking to her with a chart. "You are in room 47" she said before walking away leaving Cassandra with looking down at the chart as she maneuvered her way to that room. It seemed simple enough, obviously, she couldn't do anything big just yet.

Finally the room appeared in front of her; her hand quickly opening it as she stepped inside and looked at the boy in there, the boy who she knew was called Tavish, who had a piece of glass in his leg and who also would need stitches and who probably was in a lot of pain at the moment. Before she was able to articulate a word the boy was speaking to her. Cass smiled and nodded "Yes I am here to take that away" she responded while she set the chart down on the table and then moved to take a look at the damage on his leg. She removed the bandana "I need to take this out first, then I can give you some anesthesia because you'll need stitches" she said while she looked at the piece of glass sticking out of his leg. The girl moved to slip on a pair of gloves then took some gauze that helped her take a hold of the sharp glass. "This is going to hurt" she said to him before puling it out and quickly pressing another piece of gauze to his wound to keep the blood from coming out too much. She threw the piece of glass in a tray that was on the table next to her. "I am guessing this isn't the first time you end up here for riding a bike?" she asked him, glancing up at him, she was by no means judging, she just sort of guessed that because, well she did tended to have many people coming in due to skateboard, bikes, and other type of sports of the sort. Now she needed to wait for the blood to stop coming out, and reality it wasn't that much, thankfully. When she was sure it was fine she stood up to grab the anesthesia. He wouldn't need much, just two small pinches here and there.

WORDS COUNT how many words, yo? minus coding.
STATUS finished
OUTFIT HERE!
NOTES Hope this was good!
MUSIC not music, Anthony Bourdain; no reservations show!
CREDIT MADE BY CC! OF CAUTION 2.0.

[TAVISH LACHLAN CAMPBELL]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:450px; height:500px; border-radius: 50 50 50 50; background-color:#464646; border-left: #0CA1E8 10px solid; border-right: #0CA1E8 10px solid;] you would never turn around you're turning everything upside down - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - THIS IS TAGGED FOR mel with cass AND IS 940 WORDS LONG. HE'S LOOKING GOOD IN THIS LITTLE NUMBER AND I WOULD JUST LIKE TO ADD NOTHING. THAT IS ALL. Tavish had grown well acquainted with hospitals. He was to used to them by now that he barely registered the smell of medicine mixed with bodily fluids any more. He barely paid any attention to the dying elderly that littered the hallways and hoarse coughs from sick people in the emergency room that usually shooed people away. It was as familiar to him as his home with his foster mother, but just because he was used to it didn’t mean he liked it. The only reason he didn’t pay any attention to the smell and the dying and the sickly was because if he did it merely depressed him, and he had enough problems without the help of a hospital. Tavish actually kind of hated hospitals and doctors, he simply had no choice but to accept that they would always be in his life. Having a prosthetic meant a lot of specialist visits, having a reckless personality meant a lot of emergency room visits. Not to mention previous foster parents who were not very good to the children they took in and he had plenty of hospital visits. The only remotely pleasant visits were getting new prosthetics and having his appendix and tonsils removed and even those had been rather shitty experienced. But nothing would ever trump the first major hospital visit he could remember. Vague memories of the few months he spent in the hospital after his accident didn’t commonly come into his thoughts, but every time he entered a hospital he could remember waking up—he wasn’t sure specifically when into his stay this particular memory was at—and being completely unable to understand the severity of his situation. He had barely even been a child. Far too young to grasp that his left leg stopped just below the knee. Far too young to grasp that he would need to have a fake limb for the rest of his life. He could remember not being allowed to see his parents when they tried to visit and how completely heartbreaking that had been. He could remember wanting nothing more than his momma to tell him it would be okay and to kiss his “boo boo” better but not being allowed to have that. As soon as he had gotten better and the doctors allowed him to leave the “safety and comfort” of the hospital it was to a group home Tavish went. So yes, he corresponded hospital with painful memories he would rather not have resurface. It took a great deal of effort to keep such memories at bay. The only good thing that ever happened in hospitals were births, and even then Tavish hated children and babies with a deep rooted passion. So to him there was absolutely nothing good about the buildings. The nurses were underpaid and underappreciated and thus grumpy old hags. The doctors were rough and their hands were cold. The patients’ rude and wasted space. It was all a necessarily evil that he would much rather avoid. He was secretly a grumpy old man on the inside. The kind that beat his grandkids with his cane when they disobeyed the rules and threatened to shoot the neighborhood kids for walking on his lawn. A bitter grumpy angry at the world for reasons beyond anyone’s control. Being in pain certainly didn’t help his mood either. Sure, his pain tolerance was high but that didn’t mean he wasn’t immune to feeling it. He had a rather large piece of glass sticking out of his left inner thigh, of course that was going to be a bit difficult to bite back. At the very least it got him out of gym class for the next little while, as too much activity would probably tip the stitches he no doubt needed. But then he realized it also meant that he would have to cool it on his late night adventures with Karli and that was actually pretty disappointing. No rough housing either. Fuck life. This sucked. He could hear his foster mom’s sarcastic “It could be worse, you could be missing a leg” and it only made him more irritated with the situation. Cheeky bitch bothered him even when she wasn’t even around. In all honesty he wasn’t quite impressed with the “doctor” who walked in. She looked like she was fresh out of med school and it wasn’t exactly reassuring. He had always hated when doctors would get their students to come and watch and poke and prod around. Just fuck off already, he was a human being not a goddamn lab rat. He was sitting there with a chunk of glass sticking out of three quarters of a leg and they had sent in someone who was probably just starting out? Fuck it all. “Yeah, yeah. Local anesthesia, stitches, keep it covered for twenty-four hours, keep them clean, blah blah blah. I could write a medical journal on suture aftercare by now.”

[/color] His head tilted back when she went to reach for the glass, closing his eyes and biting back too visible of a wince. It came out as a hiss and his body naturally tensed, which made the wound bleed but such a thing was to be expected. “What gave that away? The missing part of my leg or my familiarity with the situation?”[/color] His sass was on overdrive and he didn’t even feel an ounce of guilt about that. He probably wasn’t the first asshole patient she had dealt with and if he was so help her god for her future. Tavish wasn’t exactly in the best of moods even on a good day, though. This was him being rather tame.

[/div]

and tryin' to put the blame on me but now

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that I'm a superstar you always want to hang around & act like you did

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[cassandra n. dostoevsky]

'Cos every little thing, is gonna be alright
Yes every little thing, is gonna be alright
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Many people had told her it was not the best idea to enter medical school when she was already so good at dancing; she had literally pushed away the best dancing career anyone could ever come to wish for if they were involved in ballet. However, she had never wanted to be a part of that. No offense to the people who did, but it was just not her cup of tea entirely. She liked to do it, she was not going to lie because she had become very fond of it, but in the end she also just wanted to be what her mother and herself had decided when she had been only a little girl. This was what she wanted to do with her life and no one was going to make her change her mind. Not her friends, not her co-workers at the dance studio and certainly not her father. She had been able to drop his last name when she was old enough, she could certainly master the courage to drop the dance when time came. Alright maybe that wasn't one hundred percent true, but she was doing her best to make that happen. She just needed to make her sentiments know, but when it came to her father it was not an easy thing for her to do which annoyed her to the bone. A small sigh escaped her lips and she did her best not to think about all of the Dad related issues, in fact she might have taken some frustration out when she pulled out the piece of glass but that was a different story.

To be honest she didn't mind the smells from the hospital, it was just rather nice if you ask her. It felt familiar which in her mind was always good. Her eyes shifted to the male on the table and he did not looked pleased. It made Cassandra wonder if he was going to be the type to actually be nice or one of the grumpy ones that could not stop complaining about everything. The ones Cass hated the most where the ones who had their smart phones and kept searching everything on-line and giving her their diagnose, from goggle, GOOGLE! did they really think that could give them the answer? It made her want to tell them to get up and march all the way out if they were so smart and GOOGLE could give them the answer so why come here? Oh well, she still had to deal with them, it was her job after all and she had chosen to be here after all. It just upset her, she was trying to help and they gave her the nastiest mood they could come up with. She understood those that were scared, but the rest were just plain rude or thought they owned the place. Sh e was a doctor here -almost- and she didn't even felt that way, she treated everyone nicely, tried to live day by day just getting along with everyone but sometimes people just got on her nerves. Whether it's the patients or the staff, which made her feel bad that not everyone seemed to actually take interest on be nice. Some doctors did felt like God, other nurses were a little on the bitter side and well, she already covered the patients but for the most part most people were nice in the hospital. She hated when people labeled her, or when they complained because she was young. How was she supposed to learn if people kept asking for another doctor? She wasn't going to kill them for God's sake.

So now she had to deal with this male here and for some strange reason she felt like she had to prepare herself for someone who was not going to be so nice. Probably the atmosphere in the room, but whatever it was, seemed to set her on that thought trail. Sad, she had been looking forward for someone nice because she was too tired to deal with any crap at the moment. Even before he spoke she braced herself for whatever it was going to come out of him. Yes, knowitall and not a very nice one at that. She took deep breath, calming herself down because this was her first patient of the day and she did not wished to get herself in a bad mood for the rest of the day. "The second" she responded while she grabbed the alcohol and pour it over the wound. That had to sting. The girl noticed the blood had stopped so she moved to prepare the anesthesia. her eyes focused on what she was doing the entire time. "I would explain how this goes but apparently you already know" she added to him before going to stick the needle in his leg and push the liquid inside, then she took it out and repeated the process another two times before setting the thing away. if he was giving her this attitude she could easily dish it out and she was the one with the sharp objects so he should really watch his words. She was probably older than him, probably; she wasn't even sure for she hadn't checked the age on the chart. Merely the name and the injury.

With that she began to set everything up for the stitches. She hated doing stitches for some reason but then again it needed to be done. There was always a part of the job that one likes and dislikes and this was hers. Her eyes glanced at he guy for a second before pulling the tray cart closer to have things next to her. "If it hurts too much, tell me" she said, trying her best to be nice and maybe get a fresh start with him. She just didn't liked when interactions were cold; she wasn't' cold at all she was different that that but other people seem to don't give a damn about efforts and just kept on being cold and mean and play annoying. Without another word she began to with the stitches, this was going to take a while, she didn't wanted him to have a scar so she was doing this the best way possible.

WORDS COUNT how many words, yo? minus coding.
STATUS finished
OUTFIT HERE!
NOTES n.n
MUSIC Kitchen boss; show. haha.
CREDIT MADE BY CC! OF CAUTION 2.0.

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