Shattered on the Ground

Six years and seven months later.

People have scars in all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret roadmaps of their personal histories...

Reese let the hot water wash over her face. A shower was nice, having hot water was nice. Living with four other people…you began to savior certain things.

“Get out of the shower, Reese!” Loud bangs resonated from the door but Reese just smiled, hot water was nice. But angry housemates were not. Reese sighed and reluctantly turned the water off and threw back the shower curtain. The door burst open and a man with short brown hair appeared in the doorway.

...diagrams of all their old wounds.

“Damn it Connor!” She shrieked grappling for a towel. “Get out!” She wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself.

“It’s not anything I haven’t seen before, Reese.” Was his only reply and Reese’s eyes narrowed at him as she stepped out of the shower. “Besides,” He reached over her to turn the water back on. “you know I think your scars are cool.”

“Gay or not stop staring, Sawyer.” She grumbled moving past him.

Most of our old wounds heal leaving nothing behind but a scar, but some of them don't.
Some wounds we carry with us everywhere...

Reese hugged the towel around her as she moved out of the bathroom and down the hall toward her bedroom. Having Connor walk in on her nude wasn’t as shocking as it used to be and if it wasn’t for Jamie, Reese would have her suspicions about Connor and his sexuality. She closed her door and locked it for good measures. Her bedroom wasn’t as wide and spacious as her old one; it wasn’t filled will pricey items, or classy clothes. The walls were red trimmed in black, an entire wall was dedicated to pictures that she had taken over the years. It was small and cramped and it was filled with useless crap but it was Reese’s and she loved it.

Reese grabbed a pair of $15 jeans from her dresser and a solid blue top. She threw them onto the bed before standing in front of her mirror. Reese studied her reflection for a moment; her creamy complexion, bright grey eyes, rosy cheeks, faint smile. Then she dropped the towel and the faint smile turned into an obvious frown. Scars decorated and blemished her porcelain skin. Some thin that ran along her chest, others deep that rose from her skin near her ribs.

...and though the cuts long gone...

Reese touched one in particular; a small faint one over her heart.

...the pain still lingers.

“Reese, 911!” The echo up the stairs wasn’t loud but it made Reese jump and snap out of her trans. A new, different smile appeared on her lips as she dressed quickly and ran down the stairs to meet her other house mates. Connor was there, his hair wet and a look of displeasure on his face. Regan was beside him, chestnut hair and sparkling hazel eyes.

“How was your shower Connor?”

“Shut up, Reese.” She could only grin in response.

“Where is Emily and Jessica.”

“Emily spent the night at Jake’s,” Jessica announced sauntering into the room and offering a suggestive look. Jessica had long wavy blonde hair, a curvy figure, and brilliant blue eyes.

“They’ll be fun to deal with.” Regan commented as the trio moved for the door just in time for her pager to go off. “Hmm…” She grabbed at the small black object and flicked it off as they all piled into Connor’s car. “It’s going to be a good day.” She said grinning, “That’s the second time they paged me. It must be a real emergency.”

Jessica turned to Regan, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Your sick you know that?”
_________________________________________________________________
“Alright I need three volunteers,” Her name was Anne. She was a slightly regal woman that only seemed more so with her age. She was 59 and Reese, Regan, Jessica, and Connor’s boss. She pointed to three interns, two of which were Jessica and Connor. “You’re with me. Heart transplant. Dream team,” Reese and Regan’s head’s shot up in Anne’s direction. “Clinic duty & ER.” Anne grabbed the marker and scribbled their names on the wipe off board. “Go now, chop chop.” She clapped her hands together for effect and suddenly the ten interns were scattering.

“Dream team,” Regan scuffed. “If we’re the Dream Team, why the hell are we always on Clinic & Emergency room? Nothing good ever happens in the emergency room.” Reese walked beside her as they moved in the opposite direction of Anne, Jessica, and Connor.

Reese laughed lightly under her breath, “Your kinda blood thirsty you know that?” Regan just grinned cheekily in response. “We’re on Clinic duty because we are masochistic and enjoy everyone telling us how to do our jobs.”

“Put a band aid on it and send me home.” Regan mocked.

“Just give me some morphine, it’ll be fine in the morning.” Reese added.

“Coming through!” Down the hall EMT’s burst through two double doors. “43, female, head trama.”

What's worse, new wounds which are so horribly painful...

“I am all over that,” Regan stated as she followed after them.

“Regan your ER!” Reese laughed after her. Regan turned to face her friend, walking backward with the stretcher, she gestured to the victim upon it.

“Looks like an emergency to me!” Reese just shook her head grinning as she made her way toward the Clinic.

...or old wounds that should have healed years ago and never did.

Clinic duty wasn’t fun. It was the draw of the shortest straw when Reese wasn’t assigned to it. But there was a certain amount of security in the Clinic. A safety net that even after all the training she had been through still left her clinging to it. People didn’t die in the clinic. Sick kids came into the Clinic, clumsy beer bellied men came into the Clinic, stupid teenagers came into the Clinic…

“Does this hurt?” Reese touched the small bump in the seventeen year old’s foot. His best friend stood beside him, watching with open curiosity.

“Yes it hurts.” He jerked his foot away. “Don’t poke it.”

“And how long has the BB been in your foot, Mr. Fitzroy?”

“It’s Christian. A couple years.”

“A couple years?”

“Yeah, I don’t know three.” He turned to his friend, “Three?” His friend nodded in agreement.

“And what pray tell possessed you to shoot yourself in the foot with a BB gun, Christian?” I don’t remembering being that stupid at seventeen, Reese thought distantly.

“Is that relevant?”

“He wanted to see how many times he could shoot himself in the foot until it hurt. He kept pumping it more and more each time. You know so more pres-“

“I know how a BB gun works.” Reese stated flatly.

“And you were there when it happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“It was funny at the time.”

“It was funny at the time.” Reese echoed. “Of course it was.” She touched the small bump in the boy’s foot. “Isn’t funny now though is it?” Christian frowned in response.

“No.” He jerked his foot away and sighed, “look it’s been there for years. It never bothered me before. Can’t you just give me some meds and send me home? It only hurts because my little sister stomped on it yesterday.”

“I’m going to take an x-ray just to be sure, okay?”

“X-ray?” Christian questioned slightly alarmed. “I don’t need an x-ray. I know what it is. It’s a BB in my foot. You don’t need to x-ray it.”

“Listen kid, you’re a seventeen year old idiot who shot himself in the foot with a BB gun for the fun of it. I’m twenty-three, an intern who lives with four roommates and can’t even take a shower without being interrupted. I’ve been studying medicine and how to be a doctor since I was your age, what have you done?” When Reese received no response she smiled slightly smug. “I’ll be right back.” Reese rose from her chair, clipboard in hand and moved to the main desk. “Hannah can you tell me if there is an x-ray machine open?” She nodded and began typing something in on the keyboard.

“Hey did you here what happened in the OR with Connor and Jess?” Emily was suddenly beside her. She had shoulder length oaken hair and sea glass green eyes. Reese opened her mouth but just then a handful of loud men entered the clinic and headed for the desk. Reese took one look at them and knew…

“Aw shit.”

“What?”

“Musicians.” Emily smirked in response as she eyed them up. Reese shot her a pointed look. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Can I help you?” Hannah turned away from the computer to face the men.

“Yeah…uh…my guitar string broke and whipped me in the head.” He was tall, long dark brown hair, and a smooth chiseled face.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Hugo Ferreira.”

“You think he’s famous?” Emily whispered animatedly.

“Shut up, Em.” Reese hissed. Hannah turned to her,

“There is an x-ray machine open down the hall.”

“Thanks,” Reese turned to Emily and handed her the clipboard. “Here. Deal with stupid seventeen year old boys.” Hannah put a file on top of the counter and Reese grabbed it before turning to Hugo, “You can take a seat over here.” He followed her wordlessly and sat atop the examination table obediently. “Guitar string, you said?” Reese questioned. Four other men piled in around him. Reese closed the blinds around the group for privacy.

“Yeah, the damn thing broke right in the middle of the show.” Reese glanced down at the file set before her.

“Alright, let’s see what we got.” Reese walked over to him and with expert eyes examined the wound. Reese offered him a smile,

“The good news is you won’t miss any shows and I’m sure you could think of a very brave masculine story to go with it—I bet it would be a hit with ladies.” Reese smiled and dabbed rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “The bad news is this is going to sting and your going to need stitches.”

“Fantastic.” Hugo sighed.

“Don’t worry. This is the Outpatient Clinic not the Emergency Room. It won’t take long.” She assured. “I’ll be right back.” Reese tucked the clipboard under her arm and opened the curtains before making her way to the supply closet.

“So is he famous?” Emily was suddenly beside her, Christian hobbling along behind her.

Maybe our old wounds teach us something...

“Emily get out of here!” Reese grumbled as she grasped the cool brass doorknob and pulled it open. Reese’s eyes widened at what she saw. “Josh!” Reese shrieked horrified. “Jill!”

“Holy shit!” The man toppled backward into the supply shelves and the woman let out a long string of curses as she clutched her shirt to her exposed breasts. Reese closed the door and clamped her eyes shut as though that would block the scene from her mind.

“I need the suture supplies.” She stated through the door. The supply closet…classy right? A moment later the door opened two inches and the supplies wedged through it. Reese snatched the supplies and made her way back to Hugo, shaking her head all the way.

“I herd yelling, is everything okay?” Hugo questioned when she pulled back the curtain then closed it behind her.

“Oh peachy.” Reese sighed as she stood before him. “Nothing like having an intern and a surgeon going at it in the supply closed to wake you up in the morning.”

“Woa are you serious?” One of his friends piped up and Reese smiled faintly in response as she laid out the instruments before her.

they remind us of where we've been and what we've overcome.

“Unfortunately.” Reese grabbed an instrument that looked vaguely like a pair of tweezers and placed a needle between its ends. Reese’s eyes left the instrument and darted to Hugo, “You ready?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled unhappily. Reese nodded in response as she placed the needle near the edge of the wound. Silence fell amongst the group for a moment as Reese stitched up the gash in the man’s head.

“So what is the name of your band?” Reese questioned curiously while her hands worked. She had done sutures so many times she could do them in her sleep.

“Tantric.” Reese nodded to the men around them,

“These your band mates?”

“Richie and Joe are.” The two offered a short wave. “Ryan is in a band we are touring with.” Reese’s eyes flickered to the man leaning against the wall and couldn’t help but think that he kind of looked like Ashton Kutcher. It startled Reese to find his eyes on her, a look of slight puzzlement upon his face.

“You look familiar,” He spoke up as Reese’s hands made a loop with the needle drivers.

“Oh?”

“What’s your name?”

“Reese.”

“Like Reese Witherspoon?” The one, presumably Richie, grinned.

“Like Reese Hanley.” She smiled and made another loop in the suture before pulling it gently into a knot.

They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That's what we like to think.

“Hanley?” A curious tone entered Ryan’s voice. “That’s kind of an unusual last name.” He commented.

“Is it?” Reese questioned slightly uneasy as she made one final knot then cut the suture. “You’re done.” She announced happily as she placed the needle drivers down and threw the needle into the garbage.

“Thank you, Reese.” Hugo said as he rose from the examination table in relief. “See you at a show maybe?” Reese pulled back the curtain and moved to the front desk.

“Maybe.” She allowed when she glanced at his expectant look. She handed him a clipboard and a pen. “Just fill out this form and you can go.” Emily reentered the Clinic with Christian at her side.

“And the verdict is?”

“It’s infected.” He said glumly as they moved past her.

“It’s going to have to be surgically removed.” Emily informed

“Damn shame. Maybe next time you’ll rethink shooting yourself in the foot with a BB gun.” Reese shook her head and turned back to Hannah who sat typing away behind the counter. “I’ll take another patient, Hannah.” Without looking up from her computer monitor, Hannah wordlessly handed her a new clipboard while Hugo handed her his.

“Bye Dr. Hanley.” Hugo smiled and a chorus of ‘bye’s issued from his friends.

“See you around, Reese.” Ryan said following the group.

But that's not the way it is, is it? Something's we just have to learn over and over and over again.