Curiosity bites.

[Hayley Kenrick.]

Hide and Seek is a game in which a players objective is to hide and not get seeked, in the case of them being the 'hider', and in the case of being the 'seeker', ones mission is to seek the person/s hiding. Hayley kenrick liked playing Hide and Seek, but she usually didn't have anyone to play with. Sure, her mom used to play with her, but then she started this new job at a hospital and was always helping sick people, which made her too busy for games and fun things. Hayley's grandmother wouldn't play Hide and Seek if she was paid to, because apparently that's 'Just not what grown women do, darling'.

So, Hayley was often left to her own devices, and had to play Hide and Seek by herself. She was always finding the best places to hide, but then again maybe they weren't so good, because no one was actually looking to seek her. Ofcourse, Hayley was quite a bright little seven year old, a little reckless, curious and stubborn sometimes, much like her mother if you asked Hayley's grandma, but she was sweet at times too. But yes, she was quite bright, and that was usually because she was so curious to discover new things, and eager to learn new things. Sometimes little seven year old Hayley realised that she did have the best hiding spots because lunch time rolled around and she'd still be hiding, her grandmother would unintentionally start playing Hide and Seek with her because she would start looking for Hayley everywhere, and it would take an hour or so to find her some days. Of course, grandma was never happy when she finally did find Hayley, but, you get that, right?

No, it wasn't lunch time right now. It was afternoon, and Hayley had been playing Hide and Seek in the garden. Yes, the garden was a place where you could get all dirty and find fascinating little bugs and creatures, and plants and such, so Hayley loved spending time out there. Yet again, this didn't make her grandmother extremely happy because she'd always come inside with dirty clothes, a dirty face, and dirty hands. Erm, gross? Well, how un-lady like anyways.

But yes, Hayley was currently poking around in the small garden when she came across a small bug. It was a vivid pink colour, similar to a lady beetle, but slightly bigger, and it's spots were actually stripes, like a zebra. Clearly it was one of those magical bugs. Yes, her mother had given her a magical bug book, and she often looked at the pictures in it. She paid attention to the wildlife and what not, where her grandmother didn't, nor did many other people. So, Hayley picked up the little critter up and placed it in the palm of her hand, where it started crawling around, then laid on it back, as though it was dead.

Pouting, Hayley stuck out her index finger, the one on the other hand, and pressed it to the tummy of the bug, feeling it's little crawley legs under it, as she pouted,thinking of burying it. Just as she went to pull her finger away, the little bug became alive again, and she felt a stabbing pain in the end of her little finger, the bug now clinging on to her finger.

"GETOFFME!" she screamed, tears starting to run down her face as she stood up, shaking her hand hard in an attempt to get the bug off her. "GETOFF!GETOFF!"

Yes, that little critter was sucking at her, or injecting her with something, or maybe both. Hayley didn't know, she was just a curious little seven year old. All she knew was that this was the wirst pain she'd ever felt before, and all she could do was scream, and cry. Well, bawl, but, you get my drift.

It didn't take too long for Katharine Kenrick, her grandmother, to hear her grandaughters screams. She rushed outside, her hands still wet from the dishes she had just been washing up. The screams had stopped now, but Hayley sobbed hard as she looked down at her arm, a strange black colour slowly creeping up her arm as though ink was being injected into her.

When Katharine finally located Hayley, she knelt down beside her grandaughter, who was now on the floor, her eyes half open as she sobbed, whispering unaudible words. Seeing her grandmother, Hayley lifted her arm, which had grown heavy now, and then she passed out, leaving Katharine to take hold of her hand just as the bug disappeared. Yes, that's right. It vanished into thin air. It didn't fly away. It didn't drop off and crawl away. One second it was there, the next it wasn't. Vanished.

I think you get the point.

As the bug vanished, the colour in Hayley's arm quickly spread so that she had black lines all over her body, as though it had just gone into all her veins, and then those lines too disappeared. Running inside, Katharine picked up the phone and dialled Emergency, and an ambulance was on it's way at once.

Discribing what she saw to one of the ambulance officers, Katharine was in hysterics as she got in the back of the ambulance, the man saying 'It's a St Mungo's case.' to the driver, who nodded, and then they were on their way.

St Mungo's? That was where Damita worked. That meant this was a magical injury. Yes, it didn't take long for Katharine to put two and two together, but now she wasn't sure if the fact it was a magical problem was good, or worse.

When they reached the hospital, which appeared to be a warehouse until she was told what to do to get in, Katharine, watched as the ambulance officers took her to the first floor, and leaving her to go to the receptionist, whom she asked to contact 'Damita Kenrick.' urgently, and tell her that she was needed on floor 2 by her mother.

As Hayley was wheeled to floor 2, the man in the ambulance driver gave one of the women Healers some paper work, and began telling her what Katharine had told him.

Curiosity killed the cat, let's hope it didn't kill Hayley too.

[Eleanor Jansen]

There had been a lot of firsts in Eleanor’s life. The first time she breathed, the first time she cried, her first smile, laugh, steps all left blank in the baby book but nevertheless, they had still taken place. Her first kiss with a boy name Steven. He’d had braces and had practically bitten her face off. And then the more important things, each documented on her medical file. The first time she gave blood was on the day she was born, from the umbilical cord. The first time she gave bone marrow, the first time they had poked her with needles to double her cell growth so that there would be enough healthy cells to share with Kate. Eleanor had always been a good sharer her dad said. Her first overnight hospital stay, her first thankyou balloon, her first get well card. Eleanor’s life was a complication of firsts and things done so many times over she’d lost count. All events lay entwined like her grandmother’s kitting wool, the threads a tangle that no one bothered to unwind.

It was true that her medical file was almost as big as her sister’s was and she wasn’t even the sick one. It was true that they had never asked her permission for taking parts of her, leaving her that little bit less complete each time. It was true that when she was little Eleanor had wondered what would happen when they took too much and she was left without anything. What would happen if one day all her sacrifices given to her sister Kate left her with nothing? What if the sacrifices she was making for her sister were the very things that killed her?

The first time Eleanor gave her sister bone marrow she was five years old and she’d cried. Her parents had divided themselves between two hospital beds in different rooms, on different floors each bearing a sobbing fair-haired child carrying their genes. Her mother’s sister had taken over their family home looking after eight-year-old Jesse. She’d brought with her supplies to last until the first of the parents could come home and tend to their third and eldest child. Supplies or rather distractions constituted video games and a lot of chocolate. Jesse had never been singled out as the ‘special child’ like Eleanor or Kate had due to circumstance. Eleanor had always wondered how it made him feel knowing that he wasn’t the sick one getting all the special attention or ‘the saviour’ being fawned over. To Eleanor Jesse had never complained. He said he felt sorry for them, Kate for having a life-threatening illness with a recovery rate of twenty to thirty percent and for Eleanor who was met by so many restrictions and forced into a life she had no choice over. She had been born for a purpose and never had she been asked whether this was what she wanted. They had always just assumed that she would want her sister to be healthy and she did but still- it was hard not being able to go places because Kate might fall ill at a moment’s notice and require blood or bone marrow.

There had been a lot of firsts in her life and a lot of afters but she had never been more uncertain, more afraid than when she had first walked into St Mungo’s on her first day as the new trainee. Her brother Jesse had teased her as she had gotten dressed that morning.

‘You can pick the trainees.’ He had said.
‘How’s that?’ She had replied buttoning up her jeans, raising an eyebrow at him in the doorway.
‘They always run in the opposite direction.’

He’d laughed and left her to ‘do her thang.’ But Eleanor had taken his relaxed words on board. She was not going to run in the opposite direction, she was going to face this, face her fear of this, head on. She hadn’t spent all that time working her ass off to get something she wanted only to bail now. Along time ago she had decided that she was going to be a Healer on the Magical Bugs and Diseases floor, after an entire life, that still continued, of doing things for other people she was going to do this for herself.

After sliding into her green robe and checking in at reception she had taken the elevator up to floor two. The instant she had stepped out of the elevator she’d been faced by a man, who had shoved paperwork into her hands, an explanation rolling off his tongue. Eleanor had blinked at him, catching sight of a small blonde haired child. As the ambulance driver continued to wheel the child Eleanor stood by the elevator, he looked back at her annoyed and yelled.

“You’re a Healer aren’t you? This kid needs medical attention NOW.”

“But you don’t understand I’m a trainee. This is my first day-”

She looked flushed already and her eyes frantically dashed around the corridor for a flash of lime green robes. She needed Carrie, the woman she was supposed to be reporting to right now. Or…or Antra-whatshisname. Or that older guy, Ben? She needed anyone.

And when help didn’t come she gathered herself together in front of the elevator and followed the man with the child on a stretcher. She may not have done the practical but she knew the theory well enough.

Everything was going to be okay.
Right?

[[And know we need either the....Carrie, Ben or Antranig to join.
-Snorts-
Couldn't resist posting.]]

[Ben Jones]

[I'm coming to the rescue...
toots]

It was said that all doctors had big egos. Doctors knew this, but if that was what got them through a day, if that was what kept them saving lives all day long, then that was okay. However, everyone Benjamin Jones knew were not doctors. Benjamin Jacobs was a Healer. A Healer had a significantly huger job, and thus a significantly huger ego. He would not waste a second in telling a patient (and/or pretty girl) all his statistics, and he would not hesitate to order anyone around. If you were on his floor at any time, you were his employee. So don’t mess around.

Having a large ego was a pain to keep. Girlfriends were hard. Friends were hard. If a girlfriend said the wrong thing, maybe even in jest, Ben flared up. He remembered Ashleigh, a girl who didn’t work at St. Mungo’s and thus did not understand the importance of his job. She said one thing about how Ben could take one day off, and Ben was shouting. Did She Understand That He Had The Most Important Job There Was? Every Day He Saved Lives and Did She Understand That? That relationship didn’t work out. Having friends was sometimes a pain in the ass, especially ones who did work at St. Mungo’s because they all had big egos, and they all heard if he made one little mistake, or how long it took for him to find a patient’s cure.

At work, Ben was always busy, busy, busy, ordering people around, saving lives, calling for this or for that. He sometimes didn’t have enough time for a lunch break. Today was not one of those days. Today was a day that called for a few rounds of “How are you feeling _______?” Today, Ben was ducking into room after room, checking bandages and headaches and redness and swelling, occasionally paging his subordinates and telling them to change Mrs. So-and-So’s bandages in Room Whatever- and this time let’s try the thinner bandages.

Presently, Ben was sitting at the foot of Mrs. Suto’s bed, a small woman who had come in two days ago after she had been bitten by a caterpillar-like insect with tiny fangs. She had been gardening, and picked on of the little fellas off a plant, and it turned around at big her. The venom was slow-acting, and Mrs. Suto figured she could figure out the antivenom herself. A few hours and greenish arm later, Mrs. Suto figured she should maybe go to St. Mungo’s. Enter Ben.

Not all patients were Ben’s responsibility on arrival. Technically. Some were put in wards to be looked after by Carrie or Antranig, but as far as Ben was concerned, if they were on his floor, they were his responsibility. He sometimes fought with the others when he took a patient from them, but why were they complaining if he saved life of an innocent person! Now, Goddammit, clear their minds and send them the fuck home!

“Well, it looks like the skin has stopped flaking,” he said, making a mark on his clipboard. He liked having his clipboard. He knew that his patients always wanted to see what he was writing. It was always something boring like a check or a small fragment of a sentence, in this case “No flaking.” He never strayed, even when he knew the piece of paper was just standard procedure. He knew some of the Healers drew little pictures next to their sentences when they knew the case was an easy one. He had seen little scribbles and makeshift boxes, reading “Nice body?” and a check next to it. The work was no place for jokes! Ben made sure that if he ever found those sorts of things on his floor, they would be returned to the owner, and he or she would receive a firm slap on the wrist.

He chatted with Mrs. Suto for a minute or two, discussing what she would do when they released her (which would be very soon, he assured her), until he received a call on his floor. He quickly bid Mrs. Suto good bye, and excused himself (like a gentleman), before tucking his pen into his pocket and taking off down the corridor, barking orders and firing questions left and right. Someone get him a bio. Was someone already there? Had anyone seen them? Man or woman? Their age? No answers. Was this a hospital or what?

Most of his questions were answered in a second. He nearly collided with the case, unconscious on a stretcher. Age? About six. Man or woman: child, a girl. Had anyone seen them? No. Was someone already there? Another no. Well, someone was there, tagging along helplessly, looking as if she was about to cry. Ben shot an infuriated glance at her instead of screaming at her. A trainee. She didn’t have any sort of uniform on yet, and she hadn’t gotten help. What was wrong with this chick?

And then he realized.

It was because she was beautiful. A second ago he had half a mind to backhand her and whoever was in charge of her. Now, he wanted to be in charge of her useless, skinny little ass. He was momentarily lost for words, because this girl…this girl did not belong in a hospital. This girl belonged on a trophy rack, on a bedpost, naked in fucking pictures, anywhere but in a hospital where sick people could make her sick because look how delicate she looks.

He quickly snapped out of it, and a second of anger flared through him. He was at work! But that didn’t mean he couldn’t touch her…

“Hey! Hey! Whoa what are you doing?” He grabbed her face, as if she hadn’t already been looking at him. “You are-fuck. I would-there are a million- I do not have time for this, just shut up right now and follow me.” He released her, seething. He had sworn, which was bad, but she was not dressed, she had no idea what she was doing… but she had the best way of looking like a doe in headlights. If there was anyone else in sight, he would have told her to fucking get dressed, but no one was here.

Still jogging down the hallway, he fired questions at everyone around. He gathered the girl’s name, and the approximate time of the injury, seven minutes ago. Only the grandmother had seen the bug. Pink, stripes, it was a textbook case. It would have been no sweat if they had more than about one and a half minutes before limbs began dropping off. He reached behind him and caught the trainee in the small of the back, and thrust her forward.

“You! Run that sweet little ass of yours right up to our floor and scream for a vial of Amorose powder, they’ll know what to mix it with, and then do not return without a superior. Or that medicine. Medicine before superior. Go!”

For now, he had to do what he could. He stopped the progress of the stretcher. It didn’t matter if they were here or there, he had to do some work quick. But this girl was looking serious-he couldn’t stop the venom anymore, it had already spread around the body. He took out a few syringes and injected her with what he knew wouldn’t hurt her: things to slow blood circulation, etcetera. Then, he took out his want, but what could he do with it now?

“Okay let’s go let’s go, my floor!”

And then Ben was off and running again, following another stupid piece of ass in the hope that he could save a life.

[Carrie Martin]

[[meh, partially recycled]]

Caroline Martin practically sprinted down the hallway, wheeling a cart with a five year old girl on it down the hall with the help of two trainees and a Healer-in-Charge on standby. What had started out as a harmless case of the dragon mumps had lowered the girls immune system pariously, allowing her to be suseptable to the unidentide disease that was slowly spreading around the second floor of the hospital. Come on, come on! Carrie kept tossing glances at the respirator attached to the girls arm. Don't die on me! On the one hand, this disease had to be isolated to prevent spreading to other floors, but all the isolation rooms on her floor were filling all to quickly. A special request was called down to the floor just below to isolate the girl down there, but Carrie feared the girl wouldn't make it down the elevator ride. Her heart rate was increasing rapidly, and her fever had spiked, just like every other patient who had fallen into the disease. The same disease that kept Carrie up late at night, studying patient notes and pouring over various text books, trying to piece together this mystery illness. The same disease that had her working for twenty-eight hours now, long past her normal shift. She hadn't slept in days, but at this point, wheeling the little girl down the hallway towards the elevator, she didn't care.

"I'm going to need an IV and two quarts in case a blood tranfusion is needed. She's A negitive. I don't have the proper forms from the parents yet to use magic, so put your wands away. We're going to do this the muggle way."

Despite the urgency and seriousness of the situation, Carrie felt a slight smile tug on the corners of her mouth. Of all her training, Carrie had enjoyed the muggle ER lessons the best. It was so real, so vivid and posed a real challenge. Carrie made sure from day one that all her trainees knew how to handle muggle untensils in the hospital, in case operation was required and no one was around to sign the patient's wavers signifying magical assistance. Afterall, so much could go wrong if a healing charms backfired. She looked quickly to the trainees whose faces read sheer panic. Looks like she was on her own for this one.

It seemed that minutes passed before she reached the elevator. Truly, apporating would have been faster, but it was too risky, especially with a girl who was so disoriented and had never used magic before in her life. In matter of seconds, they menuvered the cart into the elevator, and Carrie was just about to step into muggle contraption when the Healer-in-Charge stepped in front of her. For a second, Carrie tried to steer around him, but he side stepped and stood in her way. Her brow furrowed and she stepped to the other side, but he mirrored her action. They continued this dance for too long according to Carrie's patient-time-clock, and she finally looked up at him. His frown matched her own and the elevator doors began to close, a different Healer holding the girl's hand. It should be her.

"What are you doing!? That's my patient, I have to go down there!"

She was yelling. It wasn't unusual. When Carrie got into her work, she threw herself into it, fully committing. The Healer-in-Charge who she couldn't place a name to at the moment gripped her shoulders, holding her back as she tried to lunge into the elevator.

"Carrie, no. You've been working all day, you're exhausted. Have you looked at yourself lately? You're a wreck. I'm ordering you to go home. You're prone to be reackless and I can't risk lives."

"What!? No way! I feel fine! I'm not going anyway unless it's down that elevator."

"I've already given trainees and Healer's alike an order not to let you touch a patient for atleast six hours. Take a break, at least, Carrie."

"No, sorry. No. I've got work to do."

And with that, this little head of blonde girls was taking off back down the hallway towards the other working elevator so she could meet the girl on the next floor. She pushed the button eagerly, several times, and tapped her foot, waiting. The doors opened, and her head jerked up, her body already moving into the elevator. She looked up just in time to avoid being run over by Ben and and girl close on his heels, not to mention the bed they were pushing with a fragile looking blonde girl on it. The girl's limbs were stiffening up, and her skin had taken a yellowish color all over. Not good. Limbs were about to fall off. Carrie didn't even need to know what had happen to know the symptoms. Her eyes darted to Ben quickly, and she raised her eyebrows, immidiately falling in step with the Healer in Charge in the stretcher.

"Room three cleared out ten hours ago, Ben, so we can put her in there. I sent a slip to the board about aquiring more Amorose, but no response. It still needs your seal of approval. Your going to need to magically stabalize her limbs until we can get a hold of some. Any estimated of time a spell will last before her system would shut down?"

Carrie would have usually followed through with her patient, but this was serious. Ben needed an update on room progress, for one things, and for another, it may take more than one Healer to stabalize her depending on the situation. Carrie surveyed the girl once more, before looking to the other girl. Her first thought was that it was a sister of the patient, but she knew Ben too well to know he wouldn't allow even immidiate family with the girl until she was stable. Her eyes widened. Trainee. Shit. She was supposed to get her trainee today. This wasn't a good way to show Ben that she was responsible enough for a trainee. Up until recently, Ben had not permitted Carrie to supervise a trainee, coming up with excuses like that Carrie was too young, too inexperienced, or too immature. What had changed his mind, she didn't know, but a week ago he had given her the OK to train a young witch or wizard in their field of work.

"Caroline Martin, call me Carrie. "

What else to say to her? She could tell Ben was listening, seeing how Carrie handled the situation, even though he was still concentrating on the girl, he was attentive. The best thing she could think to do was to give the trainee instructions.

"Ok, Miss Jansen, I need you to talk to her. Just, keep her calm, let her know whats going on, in lamence terms."

[[ew...]]

[Damita Kenrick]

Damita Kenrick had been having an average day. She watched as Sean Andrews, the Healer in charge of her, treat a nineteen year old girl who had swallowed vast amounts of poisons in an attempt to kill herself, then she was off to check on other patients, and make sure she administered certain treatments. Yes, it certainly was one of those quiet days when all that there seemed to be left for a trainee to do was check on patients and administer potions and what not, and have a brief chat to them to see how they were doing.

Damita was soon finding out that being a Healer not only meant you were responsible for peoples' lives, but you also had to be both a people-oriented and task-oriented person at the same time. Some people were more of one than the other, such as Mister Andrews. Sure, he was good at what he did, but he was known as being a bit of a prick when it came to the job. However, he still cared about his patients, and would talk things through with them and what not, so he was people oriented in some ways too.

Damita was finding that she was well balanced with both skills. She had the ability to keep people calm when their lives were in grave danger, and whilst she focused on the task at hand. So, finding a balance in this job meant a lot to her, and she was sure that it was something imperitive to being a Healer.

"Darling, my daughter Monica, she's turning ten next week. Do you think I'll be out of here by then?" asked Mrs Wells, a lady who was keen on keeping up her appearence, even, as she put it, 'in a wretched place like this', by spending atleast half an hour on her make up each morning so she was beautiful.

Looking at her file with a soft smile, pulling a biro from her white coats' pocket and flipping the pages, Damita smiled warmly and gave her a quick nod.

"Well, Doctor Andrews has written here that he's going to check on you tomorrow, and you should be able to be discharged." she said, then nodded as she placed the chart at the end of her bed and smiled as she gave her a quick wave, walking out of the room, placing her pen in her pocket once again as she did.

Walking to the desk, she saw several memo's for her, one in which waas marked urgent and told her to see Lucille, the receptionist whom Damita found quite friendly and liked, as a person, of course. So, Damita picked up the memo and made her way to the end of the corridor, taking the elevator down to the first floor, and then walking across to Lucille, whom was somewhat busy but had enough time to tell Damita her mother was looking for her, and she'd followed a bed up to Level 1.

Smiling and nodding, Damita quickly turned on her heel, worry sinking in immediately. What on Earth would her mother be doing here? How on Earth did she get in here? After all, she was a muggle, so some things weren't quite adding up. Like, why would she be on the first floor? And who was looking after Hayley? Perhaps Robert dropped by, or her father came home from work early. All that Damita knew right now was that she didn't have a very good feeling about this.

"Come on..." she said as she reached the elevator once again, this time pressing the button repeatedly, then, when the doors finally opened, she stepped inside and pressed the button of Floor 1, placing her hands in her pockets as she bit her lip, in anticipation more than anything. What on Earth was going on?

Reaching the floor, she made her way down the corridor, and saw her mother standing outside a room, looking through the glass, apparently crying.

"Mom? What's wrong?" Damita asked, now half running down the hall way, swallowing hard as she came to her mothers side, one hand protruding from her pocket to be placed on her mothers shoulder in a comforting way.

Turning her head, Katharine looked at Damita and stepped aside, as though to allow her access to the glass so she could see what was going on inside. Damita threw her mother a puzzled look, and then stepped in potition, peering through the glass, her heart immediately sinking at what she saw going on inside.

Ben Jones, Carrie Martin, and a young girl whom she presumed to be a new Trainee were all inside, crowded around the bed of a seven year old with blonde hair that looked exactly like Hayley.

"Hayley?" she questioned, under her breath, turning her head to look at her mother, waiting for her to shake her head and tell her it was someone elses child whom she found or something. But no, that never happened.

Pushing the doors opened, Damita rushed to the bedside, stopping and staring down at the paling face of her child, just hearing Carriemention something about limbs becoming immobile or something. The world around her was crashing down, in some ways, and Damita didn't know whether she wanted to run out and bawl her eyes out, or help out, even though she knew it was unethical, and Ben and Carrie wouldn't allow it anyway.

The fact her secret would now be out didn't concern Damita right now. All that concerned her was the survival of her child.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked, looking from Ben, to Carrie, then back to Ben, her eyes becoming teary and her voice choking in her throat as she looked back down at Hayley. "TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?"

Placing her hand on Hayley's cheek softly, Damita looked back down at her, then leant over the bed somewhat, kissing Hayley on the forehead.

"Hayley? Baby? Wake up for mommy. Please? Please Hayley?" she said softly, then stood up straight again.

"What are you doing? Help her!" she shouted, tears running uncontrolably down her face down.

Motherly instinct has certainly kicked in.

[Aimee Kensington]

Man this clashes so much I'm confused. One minute Elle is supposed to go find the bloody power and the next their in an elevator with Carrie and now they're in a room.
Baaah. Eleanor's just going to tend to look after Damita.
Screw you all.
-Snickers-
-Grins-

[Eleanor Jansen]

The first thing Eleanor Jansen ever gave to her sister Kate was the blood from her umbilical cord. As the years progressed what had started out as the occasional visit into hospital progressed into something further. Every time Kate was hospitalised Eleanor was too. When Kate needed blood or bone marrow transfusions Eleanor would give it to her, when Kate needed more healthy cells to put up a fight Eleanor would be prodded with needles, injected with chemicals and things that would double her growth so there would be enough to take for Kate. In a way she was symbolic to a harvest field. They grew things using her body and took things from her body all for another purpose that was beneficial to someone other her. The only difference was that Eleanor was not without emotion, that she was set up to feel obliged. Kate’s illness had given her life and in return she was expected to help Kate put up a fight by donating everything that was asked of her. For a child who was not sick she may as well have been for she became as equally well known in the hospital as her sister Kate and the tragic story that outlines her existence. For Eleanor her conception was not the result of too much alcohol one evening or a blue moon. Eleanor’s conception was far from an accident for she was created for a very specific purpose, to save her sister Kate from APL, a subgroup of myeloid leukemia, that threatened every moment she had since age two.

Eleanor’s parents had never held back this information. They wanted Eleanor to know that she was special, their saviour, their glimmer of hope for a better future for her sister Kate. And when she was younger she had clung to that. It defined her for without Kate and the leukemia that plagued her body; there would simply be no Eleanor.

All her life Eleanor had been mentioned in relation to her sister. There wasn’t a single memory that was just hers for the keeping, a single moment that Kate didn’t act in. Everything that defined her, everything that gave her reason to breathe was Kate and now twenty-four Eleanor was so sick to death of living for someone else, living up to others expectations that she found herself so utterly lost. Her job was to save her sister, to keep her heart beating that little bit longer; to keep up the battle that raged within her just that little bit more. It wasn’t the kind of job you handed in a resignation letter to. It wasn’t the kind of job you could bitch about. At the very heart and centre of Eleanor there was Kate and her cancer, it had always been that way and Elle struggled to see it from any other angle.

Hands on her face, a voice raised and Eleanor was tense in a moment, something flaring in her and yet the complete and utter fear and panic of the situation won over her eyes. She blinked and placed her own hands over his.

It was when he released her face that the atmosphere gathered speed. This she knew. So many times she had watched Kate be wheeled around the hospital on a stretched, so many times she had heard her elder sisters details thrown around like confetti overhead. It was at those times she felt like screaming. Knowing her name wouldn’t save her life. Sure her age would help with prescriptions but all that could be gathered from the witness, which in this case was the grandmother. However, being nothing more than an innocent mind ready for moulding, a trainee, she said nothing. In this situation she would soon come to realise, she had no power.

But since when was that unusual?

Close behind on the older mans heels, the stretched running beside them Eleanor pushed the button of the elevator only to be bundled inside and introduced to a blonde in lime green robes. She was ready to climb out of the elevator and take the stairs to get that bloody power when the blonde spoke, updating the man whom was now to be recognised as Ben. Shit. Ben Jones. The Healer-in-Charge on her floor was a perve. How incredibly lucky of her. Along with room details Carrie told Ben about the Amorose powder and how they had requested some to no current avail. Eleanor had a right mind to climb those bloody stairs and personally get it herself. She could be a good persuader if she wanted to. However, before she had time to even make a decision the elevator doors were closed and she was going along for the ride.

With a nod to Carrie, Eleanor didn’t look up; she was already by the young girl’s side, pushing her blonde hair that was matted to her forehead back. She was warm under her touch and her eyes had slipped closed. Eleanor knew enough about being unconscious to know that you still needed people. And having someone to talk to you could make the largest difference. People always recovered better when someone believed in them.

“Hey sweetheart. We’re just taking you up to a room now. You’re going to be okay.”

Her voice was soft; her eyes traced her face. It was a rule never to promise anything when you didn’t know the answer but this girl was so small, so young and too sick. They said she was about six. Eleanor could remember being six. She’d visited the hospital so many times that year it was lost on her. That was the year of Kate’s relapse.

When the elevator doors opened and the small girl was wheeled into a room a few doors down Eleanor followed. She had somewhat hoped she’d get to do rounds today. Quiet stuff and build from there. Things never seemed to obey her plans.

It was then the hysterical mother appeared. Eleanor recognised her from the trainee applications. Danica? Damita? Damita. Eleanor didn’t know she had a child. She watched the scene with recognition. She knew these mothers, they were the ones who watched their boys play soccer and their daughters on stage, they were the ones who would stay so strong for their child only to crumble behind closed doors. Eleanor knew, for her mother was just the same. She’d put her entire life on hold for Kate.

“Damita.” She stepped towards her. Her hand falling on her shoulder. Words spilled from her mouth before she recognised them. Damita had medical experience but she could have been the best bloody surgeon in the world and still this wouldn’t be the best thing for her daughter Hayley. There was no possible way for a doctor or healer to do their job with a hysterical parent in the room.

“Dr Martin and Dr Jones need to look after Hayley but they can’t do that with you in here.”

“Please.” She inclined her head towards the door, praying the tearful woman would follow.

Right now Damita wasn’t a doctor, a healer. Right now she had lost all qualification that could have assisted her in any other emergency situation. Right now she was parent, the child on the bed’s mother and Eleanor knew that past the tears and the demanding urgent voice, the questions and the explained hysterics, she knew what was best for her child. Which meant passing through those doors.

[Ben Jones]

All jobs require that the employee learn something: to learn the outbox from the inbox, to learn how to construct this or the procedure for that. Some jobs even required training periods, stretches of time where the employee was to study their superiors before they were given freedom in the workplace. Ben’s job required a relatively long trainee period, plus academic success. Ben had fought long and hard against grades, but when it came to his exams, he made sure he got the grade he needed to become a Healer. The funny thing about grades, though, was that you couldn’t learn to work under pressure in a classroom. Sure, you could learn how to work under a time constraint, but somehow it was different when the consequences were heavier–much heavier–for working past the allotted time. You couldn’t be taught to work swiftly and soundly when fifteen different things were going on and one mistake could cost a life.

As a trainee, he got to see that time constraint first hand. He had seen people battling with death and dueling with challenging, fast-acting illnesses. It was true, too, that everyone took their first day at St. Mungo’s differently. It could be very smooth and uneventful (here’s the cafeteria, here’s where you log in patients, etc.) or you could be rushed into duty before you were even able to put on a uniform, and be thrown right in with the sharks. Either way, you had to learn, and quickly.

In a flash, Carrie was at his side, giving him the low-down. It was comforting to have her there, thinking clearly for him. Although he was relieved to hear some actual information, what he hear didn’t flatter him. When had he let that fall through the cracks? That was the one little bit of magic he needed right now, and they couldn’t give it to him. He turned to face Carrie, eyes wide, the shock of knowing that he had failed smacking him in the face. He was going to lose a patient. He was going to have to inform her parents, that poor grandmother of hers, of her child’s death. This little, little girl was going to die because he wasn’t able to save her.

But Carrie wasn’t done. How could he not have thought of stabilizing her? It was standard procedure. He had been too caught up in the new, undressed, gorgeous trainee. He had slowed her blood flow instead, which would only worsen the state of her bitten arm. He had known that he was sacrificing the arm at the time, but maybe he could save it? He just needed to rethink the plan.

“Of course, I already did that,” he liked. “It’ll buy us, I don’t know, at this stage, fifteen, twenty minutes, tops.”

He put his middle and index fingers over her eyes, and with his other hand, wordlessly froze the patient’s body. It was arrogant of him, not wanting to admit he had forgotten something, but whatever. Whatever let him save this life, this one life. He began to bite his fingernails, an old, old nervous habit of his. Fifteen minutes was probably not enough time to get any Amorose.

The doors flew open, and in the entrance stood another Mungo’s employee. Ben welcomed the appearance, but he wished that they actually worked on this floor so that they actually knew what they were doing. Damita Kenrick was a trainee, but not a trainee for his floor. Whatever. Anyone (with any experience) would do for now. He was about to give an order when she rushed to the patient’s side and began demanding to know what was wrong with–Ben froze. With her kid?

He watched her, horrified, as she whirled around, touched her daughter’s cheek. He never knew she had a kid. She had a kid? He didn’t know Damita very well, sure, but he probably would have picked up some hint somewhere. Normally, the only thing that would have concerned him in this situation was protocol (i.e. GET OUT). But he wasn’t. He found himself flashing to his own child, whom had lost. He had wanted that child to be lost, really, and he had never known the child. He couldn’t imagine spending years with his own little kid and then see them wheeled into a hospital in a critical condition. He couldn’t blame her for freaking out.

The new girl, Carrie’s trainee, who Ben had named Dollface, proved to be worth something after all. She swooped to the rescue, politely explaining to Damita that she needed to leave so that Mr. Jones and Ms. Martin could save her baby’s life. If he hadn’t been so shell-shocked, he maybe would have yelled at Dollface, because chatting wasn’t going to help, but he let it go. Instead, he took Damita by the arm and told her she didn’t need to leave, but could she help? He waited a moment, and then guided her out the door, his hand on the small of her back. He called to the others that he was going to run up and get a lot of Strengthening Solution and a short-term Elixir. They were going to have to take a lot of blood at one time, and they needed to fill that space with something. He knew he didn’t have his thinking cap on too straight, and there was something better than their crappy Elixir (very expensive and tedious to make) that would sustain the bloodless parts of the body for a few minutes.

He ran Damita to get the two liquids, and told her to grab some Strengthening Solution. He went another direction to get the Elixir himself. They would need (or couldn’t use) a lot. In two minutes, they were back, ready to rumble.

The whole process took about ten minutes. They were cutting it close with the stabilizing charm, and needed to wrap it up in time. For each limb, they had to take all the blood and, in its place, put in just the right amount of the Elixir. He counted on Carrie and company to deal with separating the poison from the blood as best they could (it would be hard to get it perfectly), and then quickly transferring the blood back in. It was a messy operation because they didn’t have the textbook materials to treat the case, but he was doing the best he could, not focusing on what was going on behind him with Carrie and her trainee.

Lesson learned: make completely sure to sign off on all paperwork.

[It’s a lot of bull shit and a lot of crap but cut me some slack]

[Damita Kenrick]

[[Darling, I must say, you bull shit well.
=]
Hehe.
-posting-]

[Eleanor Jansen]

[[-Snuggles-
Jase is very good at bull shitting.
-Grins-
But seriously, Dollface? Like what the?
That sounds so creepy older guy with school student.
And I suppose, it kinda is. Rawr.]]

[Molly no sign in]

-prods-
actually I think its my postie...hm...but if you would like to go before, please do

[Carrie Martin]

This was the world Carrie lived in. An utter blur of color, faces, magic, medicine, drama, and adrenaline, all the while looking absolutely smashing in her green robes. Even in the severity and rush of the situation, she found an calm washing over her. So familiar, so welcome. There was no nervousness in her stride like there was in Elle's, and no urgency in her voice like there was Ben's. She was confident that everyone would see this through. That's just how she was. Well, that, and she believed in a little thing called fate.

She had once felt that fate had only let her down twice before. Once, on her fifth birthday when her Daddy left her, and the second time when she applied for a muggle medical school. Carrie was fascinated by the old fashioned and almost mideviel way of medicine that the muggles lived by, and wanted to study it further. However, with no real school to give her credentials, she was rejected, and ended up in St. Mungos. Looking back on it, it wasn't such a bad thing. It brought her to Aimee, and of course the boys, Darcy and Ben. It got her hands on experience, in a job she loved. Of course, most people would find it hard to love something with your elbow deep in blood and vomit. But Carrie barely noticed, it was all so fascinating. Since this revelation, she has just let her life live its course, never doubting or second guessing herself. Just let fate do the work. If she didn't get a promotion, there was a reason. If she got sick and couldn't go to work, it was for the best. She was confident this time that it was this girls fate to stay alive.

However the serene she had stepped into vanished when Damita made her loud entrance. Oh god. What? What!?She risked taking her eyes of the small fragile girl for a moments time to watch Damita. No way. She could feel her mouth hanging open. When had Damita had a kid!? No time for that. But the care and motherly love that Damita was showing her daughter was so...touching. Carrie had always longed for a mom like that, and suddenly her urgency kicked into over drive. It was now personal. No mother should have to lose their child. Carrie was about to whisk Damita out of the room, when Elle got on it, with such ease that few trainees had when screaming parents got involved. She beamed a bit. I got a smart kid.... She cooed in her head, The other healer's will be so jealous. She nodded approvingly to Elle, but the seriousness remained on her face.

"Ok, so we don't have enough hands on deck her, Miss Jansen. So you'll have to help. Watch what I do and be very careful."

It was a risk putting the trainee in that situation, but it was a risk Carrie was willing to take to save the girls life. She waited for Ben to get started, trying to find her way back to that serense place. No such luck. Her mind was in overdrive now, a whirlwind of check lists for surgery and emotions. Never get emotionally involved was the one rule, that no Healer, no matter how long you worked at St. Mungo's, followed.

It was tricky business, this operation. Ben was in control of the Elixer, adding just the right amounts at the right intervals so that the girl wouldn't O.D. But it was Carrie's job that was the hard part. Separating the girls own blood from the poison was a difficult task. You had to eliminate as much poison as you could, without too much blood loss. And they were running out of time. Her hands moved fast, adressing each limb, refusing to take a look at the clock on the wall until the girl's breathing was normal, and her limbs were slowly beginning to unclench.

When it was over, she pulled off the bloody gloves, dumping them in the waste container before moving to stand at the edge of the room while other trainee's helped get the girl, Hayley, settled. She hadn't realized how completely exhausted she was until just then, and she slumped against the wall, looking at the ceiling. She was fairly certain she was the only Healer who had been working for approximately thirty hours now, but it was all worth it when Damita ran in, kissing her daughter. She arched her back, smiling slowly, before walking back over to Ben. Her feet had reduced to a shuffle in weariness, and when she got to her flatmate, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"We did a good thing."

She smiled to herself, before looking up at Ben, and then to Elle.

"I think this is going to be the start of an excellent training, Jansen. You were a natural."

[[crap]]

[Ben Jones]

[I have another shoulder, Emily.
Just remember that
*winkwink*
*tsss playaaaa*]

[Aimee Kensington]

Another shoulder?
-Tilt-

[jason]

nevermind sweetheart