Reaching Out To You (h.s. au)

20

E.S.

"I am so proud of you," my mom grins, hugging me tightly.

"I'm so happy," I smile, just graduating medical school.

I'm out of my mom's arms in seconds and hugging my dad quickly. He holds me to him tightly, my arms around his neck.

"You don't leave me. Not for long," he whispers, grabbing my head.

"I have my own apartment dad," I smile, his eyebrows frowning.

"No. You're my little girl," he says, my arms wrapping around him tighter.

When I was sixteen, he had told me about his anxiety. I had never assumed it but when he told me, it explained his frantic tendencies when something was off or how he'd need my mom when I had friends over. The worst experiences for him were my boyfriends. I've had three, two not serious and one serious that ended two years ago. He nearly had a heart attack when I came home in tears.

"I'll visit you and you'll visit me," I assure him, his lips pressing to my forehead.

Mom pulls dad away and grabs his hand, the three of us going into the car. We go out for dinner and I go back to my apartment after dealing with my reluctant father. I love him so much though.

The next morning, I get ready for my first day at work and drive down to the hospital. I'm flooded with training and I learn how to do everything for the next few weeks.

We get a call from the military, saying an injured soldier is coming in. I prepare a room and grab a clipboard, walking in once he's in.

"He was in an explosion and shootout. He has burns and a bullet wound in his shoulder," the officer says, my head nodding.

We take him to remove the bullet from his shoulder and I start to wash his burns, his body stirring while I attend to him.

"Woah," he says, looking around.

"Do you remember anything?" I ask, his brown eyes looking at me.

"I remember this beeping noise, then nothing after that," he says, my head nodding. After cleaning the last of the burns, I grab my clipboard and show him where everything was inflicted upon him.

"It's out though? The bullet?" he asks, my head nodding.

"Yeah. There was a small incision to your upper scapulae, then we stitched it. There are six stitches," I tell him, his lips releasing a sigh.

"Thanks," he breathes out, my lips curving as I smile.

"I'm Matt, by the way," he says, my eyes looking at him.

"Sergeant from what I've heard," I say, moving him to sit up.

"Yeah. Worked hard for that position," he says, my eyes looking at him as I place some of the burn medicine to the burns on his back.

"You should be proud," I tell him, his lips curving. He moves to lay back and I make sure he's comfortable, my hand grabbing my clipboard before walking to the door.

"Wait," he says, my head turning to look back at him.

"What's your name?" he asks, my lips curving.

"I'm Elizabeth. Dr. Styles to most, but for you I'll make an acceptation," I say, his lips curving at me before I walk out of the room.

I attend to other patients and start to get ready to leave, a nurse walking towards me.

"The soldier in room 244 won't stop asking about you," she smiles, pouring herself a cup of coffee for the night shift.

"Why's that?" I ask, her lips curving after taking a sip.