Stitches of Survival

Can't Fight This Feeling

A/N: TBH I was really tempted to not post this for a few more days... but I was too excited!

Chapter Thirty-Three: Can't Fight This Feeling

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"Shepherd, what are you doing?" Owen asked as soon as Derek and I caught up with him on the way to the ER, Brooks and Ross trailing behind us.

"I got your page." Derek told him. "A tanker blew?"

"A tanker didn't blow." He shook his head. "I meant, what are you doing with Ross? Didn't you get the memo?"

"Oh, we're supposed to read those?" Derek glanced at me, only earning an eye roll in return.

"Yeah, I need you to start using other interns." Owen told him. "I can't have attendings playing favorites. These kids need a well-rounded education."

"Ross, are you feeling poorly rounded?" Derek asked his intern.

"No, sir." Ross shook his head. "I'm very rounded."

"See? He's very rounded." Derek assured Owen.

"And a kissass." I muttered under my breath.

"Hey. I heard about the accident." Bailey hurried down the hall to catch up with us, Webber right behind her. "A tanker blew?"

"A tanker didn't blow." Owen shook his head.

"Bailey, I haven't seen you outside your genome lab for a week." Derek raised a brow at the short woman.

"Oh, speaking of which, when can I have my genome mapped?" Webber asked. "I have an aunt who died of breast cancer. It can happen in males."

"Uh, no. Yeah, it can." Bailey nodded as I handed her a trauma gown to put on before pulling on my own. "It's just, now I'm thinking about your breasts."

"When did you say that tanker blew?" Webber asked.

"The tanker did not blow." Owen said yet again. "Don't look so disappointed."

"This is just going to be a blast." I shook my head as we all headed outside to meet the ambulances. "Addison's gonna give me hell about the traffic when she gets here."

"Oh, yeah, Addison's getting in tonight." Bailey smiled at the mention of the red haired neonatal surgeon. "That means the wedding's only a couple days away. Are you excited?"

"More like nervous." I admitted.

"Cam Miller, restrained passenger in a vehicle t-boned on its side." A paramedic started to brief us about the first incoming trauma while I stood back, waiting for the kid that I was told was being brought in. "Vital signs stable. GCS is fourteen. He's been disoriented."

"Whoa!" I coughed at the strong odor that came when he opened the back of the ambulance.

"Yeah, the tanker's been leaking gas all over the road." The paramedic told us. "We did a primary decontamination on scene, but we had to get him outta there."

"Okay, no open flames, no smokers, no use of cauteries." Owen told all of us. "Be safe, people."

"Ethan Dawson, ten years old. Restrained in the backseat." A paramedic handed me the boy's chart as they unloaded him from the ambulance, Owen at my side. "No obvious injuries except for a minor wrist lac. He was walking around at the scene."

"Ethan, my name is Dr. Hunt and this is Dr. Watley." Owen introduced us to the boy.

"Are my mom and dad dead?" He asked us, tears in his eyes.