Bombay

- - 2 - -

    I scrambled up and out of the warm blankets, coming to my feet with a jolt. My overhead light streamed throughout the room as I pulled the chain down hard and fast, which also stopped the fan. I sprinted around the room, grabbing the first set of scrubs that my hands landed on, not caring if they matched or not. I shrugged them over my body and shoved on my shoes, excluding the need to go search for clean socks.

   I didn't care what I looked like at this point, I just needed to get to the hospital as fast as I humanly could. My fingers shoved through my hair at a final attempt to tame whatever rats nest had accumulated up there, but I didn't stop at a mirror to see if it worked. Rather, I flew down the stairs with only my phone in my pocket. As I bounded down onto the landing at the bottom the frantic search for my badge and my keys began. I tore throughout the house, yanking up pillows, blankets, and misplaced items in the process.

"What the hell are you doing?" Michael asked from the top of the stairs, his voice also gruff from sleep.

"Got a 911 page." I explained without missing a beat, not even pausing to look at him.

"Again? Luke, this is the third day in a row." He stressed out as he slowly made his way down the stairs to join me.

    I couldn't bring myself to really care anymore. It didn't matter to me that I was exhausted, or that this was honestly a terrible call to make on my part. Rational decisions were just out the window at this point and I had come to terms with that.

"It's Amy."

"Lisender?" He questioned, immediately picking up his pace as we both ripped the living room apart. I only nodded in confirmation.

"Catch!" He piped up from the opposite end of the couch, tossing me my wallet and ID card.

"Thanks mate." I said, now jogging into the kitchen, to grab my three day unwashed water bottle.

"Want some back up?" Michael asked, as he shoved on the same pair of scrubs that he'd worn only hours before.

"I don't want to drag you out of bed, go get some more sleep." I said, shrugging him off. While his company would most likely be extremely beneficial, his 10 hour surgery from his shift prior led me to believe that he too needed more rest.

"My next shift starts in an hour and thirty, I have to be up right now anyways." He said, not listening to me what-so-ever and continuing to shove his shoes on his feet.

"Then I'd love the help." I caved, too tired to argue with him and truthfully I needed someone to be there with me.

   He ran back upstairs, I assume to finish getting himself ready, and I ran to the fridge, praying that there was some cold brew left and that Ashton hadn't hogged it all.

"I'm ready to roll." He yelled out from the stairs, trampling his way back down. I shut the fridge door with a groan, nothing like pulling another shift with no caffeine.

"I'll get you some coffee when we get there Luke, comon let's go." I slowly turned around toward him and allowed disgust to take over my face.

"You do not drink hospital coffee." I stated, in disbelief.

"You do what you gotta do." He said with a shrug, walking out the front door.

"That's a level of desperation that I have not yet met."

   I closed the door behind us, making sure that it locked itself before hopping in the passenger seat of the car. Michael insisted on driving since he'd had the most amount of sleep between the two of us. I wasn't the biggest fan of the idea, but thankfully he understood my rush and sped most of the way.