The Awakening {Jason Kolchek X Fem!reader}

ONE

Inspiration to write this story came from voidsbooks IntenseGaze and Scarlet_RedHead  

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"You're hired."

"Wait, serious? Oh my god, thank you so much. I won't disappoint." I exclaimed, excitedly. I then noticed the man's serious expression, and remembered that he was a man of the Air Force, so I had to do my best to tone down my excitement.

Being a recently graduated Medical Student, with very little practical experience, other than my Voluntary work at the Hospital and Retirement Village; I was fairly unqualified to be tending to Soldiers with gunshot wounds and missing limbs. Applying for this job was a long shot at best, but here I was, now a hired Medic. Of course, I was a "Medical Assistant," therefore I should be working behind the scenes, or with a more experienced Medic or Doctor.

The man gave a slight hum of attention, as he passed me back my file, resume, and criminal records (or lack thereof) sheet.

"Oh...don't you need this? Like to keep on record?" I asked, curiously, as I gingerly took back the file.

The man chuckled at me without humour, as he straightened up in his seat. "No, that won't be necessary! You see, we'll do all the physical tests and examinations here, before you're shipped out, then you'll be interviewed at your new Post."

"Post?" I asked.

The man watched me through the black lenses of his Aviator sunglasses. Seriously, he was inside a building, in a dully lit room, and he was in sunglasses?

"Well, Miss...?"

"Oh, uh, [Y/N] Brookes!" I replied. The man nodded his head, then stood from his seat, as he began slowly circling around the desk. I was surprised by how quickly the man could forget a name. He had just looked at my file only moments ago.

"Yes, Miss, Brookes." he began, "Your Post is where you'll be positioned. For example, we're on Military grounds right here, therefore this is a Post; but you will not be located here!" he explained, as he wandered over to a metal filing cabinet.

"Oh."

"Where will I be positioned then?" I asked, unaware of how many questions I was suppose to be asking a Military man. Was there a rule against speaking if not spoken too? I had no idea.

The man walked backed over to his desk, and chucked a file in front of me. I gingerly grabbed ahold of the brown paper casing, flicked through it, and began reading.

"Iraq?" I said, looking at the man through furrowed brows.

"Yes."

"I'm being sent to, Iraq?" I asked, in utter disbelief.

"Well, if you still wish to take the job, then yes. That's where you will be Posted." the man explained, no sign of any human emotion or personality, whatsoever.

"When would I have to leave?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea that it would be much sooner than expected. They hired a highly unqualified Medic to tend to some pretty serious injuries. They were obviously desperate.

"Well, if you took the job, we'd start the physicals and tests tomorrow, and they'd probably take about two days. Then we'd allow you a little time to pack your things and say your goodbyes! So... Sunday?"