Happy Sunday! I hope you all had a great week! Mine's been kind of hectic but I'm glad I get to post today. This chapter's a bit shorter than the rest but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. This one does have a trigger warning as stated below. The surgical scenes won't be incredibly descriptive, nothing too drastic, but I still wanted to make you guys aware of it. Happy reading!

TW: blood

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I Knew You Were Trouble by Taylor Swift

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"There were two reasons I was scared to let people in;

the damage they could do, and the damage they could find."

- Chris McGeown

~Present Day~

Boston, Massachusetts

Aedrienn

A loud crack echos through the freezing operating room as I spread the man's chest open, and blood splatters onto my mask, onto my borrowed scrubs, before it spills to the floor in red waves.

And throughout all the madness going on around me - as nurses rush in and out with bags of blood and saline, as the scrub tech skillfully keeps handling me surgical instruments as fast as I keep demanding them, I can't help but wonder how I got here in the first place.

Nova is going to kill me.

I hadn't even planned on jumping in. But the trauma surgeon on call was going to let this man die and I wasn't about to let that happen.

After the interview with Dr. Callahan, I took up his offer to wander around the hospital. Eventually, I ended up in the ER - just in time to see the paramedics rush in with a man laid out on a stretcher, blood pooling from a large gash on the right side of his chest.

At first, I'd stepped back, watching through the observation window as the critical care team worked, and they'd been doing just fine - until one of the residents opened his mouth.

"Pack him up for now. He's lost too much blood. We'll head into surgery when he's more stable."

Bad idea considering that the man was suffering from some sort of internal bleeding, and by the wary looks the trauma staff gave him, it seems they would've agreed with me.

They hesitated for a moment, and I waited for someone to interject, but nobody did as the doctor glowered at them.

"Are you people deaf? Get to work," he practically growled, and I shook my head at the classic, pompous, egotistical persona some male surgeons took up when they were in the presence of other people, thinking their title somehow made them better than everyone else.

Again, I expected someone to say something, and before I realized what I was doing, I'd made my way inside.

I snatched up a pair of gloves from a nearby tray and moved towards the man's side, inspecting his wound.

"What do you think you're doing? This man needs surgery right now." I addressed them, and my irritation flared when none of them responded and just continued to stare at me. "Who's the lead doctor here?"

Just like I had suspected, the man who'd been previously yelling at them spoke up. He seemed to be in his early thirties, and with bronze hair and a sculpted jaw, I might've even found him attractive - if it weren't for the ugly look he gave me.

"I'm Dr. Brian Anderson, and I'm the lead surgeon on this case. Who the hell are you?" he'd said crudely, and if his gaze could burn, he would've sent me straight to the trenches of hell.

"My name is - "

"Actually," he cut me off, "I don't really care who you are. Gabe - " he looked at one of the male nurses. "Please escort the lady to the waiting room."

Gabe took a step forward, and I held up a hand, halting him. "Put your hands on me and I'll throw you out of this room myself. And as for you - " I directed my icy glare towards Dr. Anderson. "This is my patient now." I turn to one of the nurses. "Call the OR and tell them we're coming up."

"You can't fucking do that." Dr. Anderson was practically fuming by then. "Who gave you the right - "

"I did, Dr. Anderson," I whirled on him, fed up with his hostile behavior. "As of today I am your chief surgical resident, therefore you will answer to me. And if you have a problem with that, take it up with Dr. Callahan. Now, you're more than welcome to join me. But if not," I bumped my shoulder into him, stepping around him. "Move out of my way."

"Oh, I'm joining," he barks. "But only because you're going to need my help when you screw up."

"Yeah, yeah yeah," I muttered under my breath.

Everything happened so fast after that. The next thing I knew a nurse was helping me out of my normal clothes and into a pair of scrubs and another was winding my hair up into a surgical cap.

Which is how I ended up here, scissors and towels in hand, as I desperately try to stop the bleeding, all while Dr. Anderson yells crude remarks at me.

"I told you," he says from the other side of the operating table, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he takes another clamp from our scrub nurse. "I told you this was a bad idea and you didn't listen. Now this man is going to die because of it."

"He's not going to die," I grunt. Sweat beads on my neck all the way to down to my spine as I continue to exert myself. It's been about thirty minutes since we began operating and I was already starting to feel the effects of it, my muscles screaming at me to rest, but I push forward, ignoring them.

I understood the concepts of life, of death, and I realized that we are not promised eternity - something us doctors had a hard time accepting. And yes, the man who was now lying on the table unconscious under my hands would eventually die, just like all humans would. He could walk out of this hospital good as new only to pass away a few weeks later from a completely different incident - that was the reality of the world we lived in. But he would not die because I refused to do everything I possibly could to save him.

I place another suture, only to shout in frustration when it rips yet again. "Damn it. This isn't working."

"No shit, it isn't." Dr. Anderson hisses, and his face snaps towards the monitor, the erratic beeping of it indicating the extremity of the situation.

My patient was going into cardiac arrest.

"Alright people," I yell, gathering everyone's attention. "We're doing an emergency thoracotomy. Now."

An exasperated breath whooshes out of Dr. Anderson, his complexion white as snow. "You're out of your mind."

Possibly.

I step back from the table, giving the nurses room to prep and drape my patient. "Get out, Dr. Anderson. If all you're going to do is insult me, then I want you out of this OR. You two - " I signal at the two figures in the back, reading their titles on their badges as surgical interns. "Go scrub in. I'm going to need your help." They don't move, probably star-struck that a resident is giving them the chance to jump on a case in the first place. "Now," I snap, and they practically trample over each other as they rush to the scrub room.

Dr. Anderson just shakes his head, and steps out of the sterile field, shucking off his robes and mask in an angry fit.

"I'm taking my name off this case. I won't be held responsible for his death."

But his comment is lost in between the chaos of moving bodies, and I don't respond to him as he rushes out the door, my immediate focus on my patient. I wave for my interns to come closer.

"You," I point to the taller one of them, a young man around my age. "Start compressions. And you - " The girl next to him scrambles to get to my side. "Grab those rib spreaders."

The intern struggles to grab them, her hands shaking so much I'm surprised she doesn't drop them on the floor - then I see the moment she steels herself. She calms down, giving me room and time to take control of all the bleeders.

"Good. Stop compressions. Beginning cardiac massage."

The male intern steps back, and I take my patient's heart into my hand, squeezing it in even, strong beats.

"Come on, come on," I apply more pressure, willing the organ to resuscitate.

A deadly silence settles over the room as the monitor flatlines.

Then it's replaced with a steady, even beeping, and I almost collapse to the floor in relief when I see his stats return to normal.

"We have sinus rhythm!" A nurse calls.

A breath shudders out of me, and I can't help but laugh in delight as his heart finally starts beating on its own again. "Woo...There is it everyone! We did it!"

Suddenly, everyone in the room begins clapping, cheering, their relief just as palpable as mine. And there it is - there's that rush, that underlying, electric current that buzzes through my body whenever I operate, whenever I treat or diagnose a patient. It comes alive inside me now. It's surreal. The triumph that radiates in the atmosphere right now at this very moment -

"What the hell did you do?"

And just like that, the feeling dissipates into thin air as a pair of angry eyes stare into my own.

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Asher

"What the hell did you do?" The room goes silent as I walk into the OR, the metallic scent of blood so strong it reaches me even through the mask I wear. And I realize that no matter what I might've done, nothing could have prepared me for the sight in front.

It was a fucking bloodbath.

When Dr. Brian Anderson came storming into my office I was tempted to send him away, then I saw the gore on his scrubs, his frantic expression, and I just knew I had to go.

From what I could make out from his shaky words as he tried to explain to Leo and I what happened, I understood it had to do with a fellow surgeon of ours. We took the elevator down to the surgical floor, and he rambled on and on about how this particular surgeon had lost her mind. Since this wouldn't have been the first time a doctor had gone rouge, I was expecting the worst.

However, I was certainly not expecting to see Aedrienn Atalia Renna's hand lodged deep inside a man's chest cavity, blood splattered all over her.

Her joy is immediately replaced with confusion as her gaze snaps to mine. And even with the scrub cap that hides her hair, the mask that covers half her face, I would still recognize her anywhere - but it seems she doesn't return the sentiment because she just glances over me, and it isn't until she sees Leo and Brian behind me that she understands.

"Really?" She rolls her eyes at the trauma surgeon, her voice taut with annoyance. "You told on me?"

Brian takes a few steps back, his ears bright red with embarrassment. "You were out of control. Dr. Gabriel - " He speaks to me now. "I've never worked with someone so irresponsible."

"I'm irresponsible," Aedrienn huffs out a breath, taking another towel from the scrub nurse at her right side. "Says the man who walked out on his patient when he needed him the most. Go ahead and explain to Dr. Callaham how you completely overlooked the severity of this man's state. By the way, you're welcome. He's fine now, thanks to me."

"I was doing my part," he hisses, and I can practically see the snarl through his mask. "I was going to help him - "

"No," Aedrienn interjects. "You were going to let him die. "

"Stop it, both of you." I snap, fed up with their childish banter - and with the fact that she still hadn't acknowledged me. "Remove your hands from the patient, doctor."

But Aedrienn remains deaf to my command, instead, she begins speaking to one of the interns helping her, and anger swells within me at her obvious dismissal.

"I won't ask you again - take your hands off the table." Still, she ignores me. "Now, Dr. Renna."

A collective gasp travels throughout the room, the surgical staff casting shocked stares in her direction. Clearly, they had no idea who they were working with. 

Aedrienn ignores them, and I feel an odd sense of satisfaction when she finally looks at me, probably irritated at the fact that I exposed her identity so freely. Big-fucking-deal. Everyone would've found out eventually, I'd just decided to speed up the process.

And just when I think she'll step back from the table, she tilts her head to the side, eyes crinkled in curiosity. "I'm sorry - but who are you?"

Leo lets out a choked cough from behind me, trying and failing miserably to suppress his laughter. I grind my teeth together, my patience wearing very, very, thin. But before I can say anything else, a figure steps through the door on the far side of the wall.

Dr. Nova Perez comes running in, taking the mask from a nurse's outstretched hand and putting it on.

"I couldn't believe it when I saw your name on the board," she exclaims, excitedly. "I just had to come see it for myself. An emergency heart surgery! How - wait, what's wrong?"

Aedrienn inclines her head in our direction, and Nova's eyes widen in shock when she sees us.

"You know what," she lets out a nervous chuckle, taking a few steps back towards the door. "I think I hear someone paging me - bye!"

"Dr. Perez." Her steps halt at the sound of my voice, and she visibly winces, realizing she won't be able to get out of this one.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you know Dr. Renna?"

"No", Nova says at the same time Aedrienn says, "yes".

Enough of this.

"Dr. Renna, get changed and come see me in my office when you're done - and you will do it because I say so," I add when she begins to protest. "You will do so because in case you haven't noticed, I am the owner of this hospital and because it is my name written on all these walls. And under all of your paychecks," I address the staff now, making sure everyone knows where I stand against intolerable behavior.

I turn to Leo, taking note of the delight in his expression. "And you stay with her."

"What?" He barks, jerking his head back. "Why me?"

"Well, you seem to find this situation incredibly amusing," I say, walking past him towards a second door attached to the scrub room. "And you're the one who hired her in the first place."

I have one foot out of the OR when I look back. "Dr. Renna."

Her eyes snap up at me as a nurse helps her out of the bloodied gown, and my lips twitch at the clear anger in them. "I meant what I said, and I wouldn't call my bluff if I was you."

I walk out without another word.