Ultraviolent [Kylo Ren X Reader]

Chapter Twenty-Five

During your recovery and mourning process, the hospital expansion project had begun, causing you to pass by contractors in the hallways, as well as dodging tarps and equipment littering the path to your floor. Holdo had informed you that one full unit had been finished, as well as furnished and completely stocked, which caused an aching in your chest. Your heart strings tugged within the confines of your thoracic cavity, the thought of giving back to the community that you cared for almost brought tears to your eyes. 

You had greeted your nurses, telling Jannah and Shara that you would be sure to catch up later in the shift as you turned the corner, ready to relieve Pryde of his patient load. As usual, the stiff-spined, greying-haired man sat behind the desk, glancing over patient charts, his hands steepled in front of his mouth as he was lost in thought. Hesitantly, you set your bag down ever so gently, attempting to keep your noise level to a minimum. 

As you hung your stethoscope over the back of your neck, you could hear Pryde's aggravated sigh, an irritated gust of loosed breath you hoped you were not the cause of. Turning to face him, you watched his once steepled hands scrubbing over his own face, the heels of his palms pressing into his eyes, almost as if that would give him the answers he was so desperately yearning for. 

You tentatively cleared your throat, watching as Pryde's hands slowly dropped from his face, glaring at you bitterly. 

"Is everything alright, Doctor Pryde?" you asked, his name but a whisper from your lips. 

With a sigh, Pryde's steely gaze lifted, his eyes shutting as he rubbed at his temples. 

"No," he said, your name nothing more than a grumble from his chest as he continued, "Nothing is alright. We will be getting a rather critical admission at some point tomorrow, and after looking through the patient's chart, I'm afraid that I can't find the right course of treatment." 

You frowned, shoving your hands deep into the pockets of your scrub top. 

"Would a fresh set of eyes on the case help? I'm more than willing to look over everything, maybe come to a conclusion on what interventions would produce the best patient outcomes." you countered, watching Pryde's every movement. 

A near suffocating silence enveloped the both of you, encompassing the entire physician's call room. You were sure you would have been able to hear a pin drop, it was so quiet. 

"Fine. Just...don't let anyone know about this. We don't need everyone flocking the hospital to get a look at her." Pryde huffed, getting up from the office chair, gathering his belongings. 

Curiosity began to eat away at you. 

"Who is it?" you whispered, almost as if someone, anyone, could be listening in. 

Pryde sighed, slinging on his blazer, throwing his overtly expensive duffle bag over his shoulder. 

"It's the former Attorney General of New York. She's highly regarded for the work she's done to benefit the citizens of New York. Of course, you wouldn't remember her. She retired by the time you were starting elementary school..." Pryde sneered. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. 

Without so much as another word from him, he practically vanished, leaving you to round and assess your patients, stewing over possible diagnoses for the mysterious Attorney General. 

                                                                                       ...

As you sipped on your coffee, you were sure your brain was melting. 

Your patients were tucked away in their beds, resting peacefully, which you were adamantly thankful for. Jannah and Shara were finishing their charting, while throwing bits of gossip to each other over the pecking of their keyboards, giggling like school girls when one of them said something particularly raunchy or explicit.