𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

forty one | sparkle

"Yang."

"Surprised?"

"She's winning?"

"Did you expect someone else?"

"I'm 26 points behind? That's not possible. Count again." Izzie demands Alex, the one holding the clipboard. "What about all the procedures?"

"Only three points for watching. You gotta do." Cristina remarks.

She whines under her breath. "I do do."

"Ha. You said do-do."

"Grow up, Leven."

"I can't make them let me do procedures." Izzie resumes her complaining.

"You gotta ask. You gotta take charge of your own destiny and make it happen." Cristina pushes past the rest of us. "Like this."

The back doors to an ambulance swing open, followed by the voice of the paramedic onboard.

"Otis Sharon, 61-year-old male, found unconscious on the street corner with a swollen ankle."

"Not it."

"Way to take charge of your own destiny, Cristina."

Desperate for a few points, Izzie takes the case. Soon, Bailey comes out to check in on us. But just before she can dismiss us, three severely injured people — the result of a practically fatal bear attack — plow through the ambulance bay in their suburban.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Robinson?"

The young woman, drenched in her husband's and brother-in-law's blood, sobs quietly just outside the trauma room.

Having witnessed how her husband spoke so. . .openly about their more than sudden relationship, it was safe to assume she didn't appreciate the comments.

"It's just, you know, you marry a man like that — or a man like that marries you — and he's cute and he's rich. . .he's a catch by anyone's standards." Her tears cease momentarily. "So you sort of. . .sit around, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because there's no way a man like that marries you. Or me."

She slowly sinks against the wall.

"I mean, he married me."

I set aside the forms she'd filled out earlier, helping her move to sit in the waiting area.

"I'm sorry. I-I must look like a crazy woman."

At that moment I notice the blood caked to her dirty blonde hair, only it seems to darkening by the second — revealing to me the possibility of a head wound.

"Mrs. Robinson —"

"Please. It's Jennifer." She smiles through glossy eyes.

"Jennifer. . ." I approach cautiously. "You seem to be bleeding a little under the beanie. Do you mind taking it off so I can check?"

"No, no, I-I'm fine. I just scratched myself on a branch when we were running." She shakes her head before slipping it off.

My breath hitches at my throat as a piece of her scalp hangs low by her ear, still attached by a mere inch of skin.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Two quick pages to the McBest Friends and Jennifer is settled into her own trauma room. Mark sutures the head laceration whilst Derek examines the C.T. scan.

"C.T.'s clear."

"But it's deep. That bear clawed you good."

"God, I didn't even feel it."