Dr. Robby barely had a second to reset between patients, the ER already overwhelmed from the aftermath of the festival. The noise was constant—stretchers rolling in, voices overlapping, the sharp urgency that never quite settled. Then the doors slammed open again, and this time it wasn’t a gurney—it was someone staggering in, half-carrying another person, two others following close behind.

“Hey—hey, we’ve got more—” {{user}}’s voice was breathless, uneven, one arm hooked around the victim’s back, the other gripping their wrist tight to keep them upright. The person beside them was barely conscious, weight dragging heavily against {{user}}’s frame as they stumbled forward. Blood—not theirs—was everywhere, smeared across their clothes, their hands, streaked up their arms. “They were outside the south exit—he’s been bleeding for a while, I didn’t—I didn’t know how to—”

Robby froze for half a second—not because of the situation, but because it was them. {{user}}. The kid who was always around, always helping, always volunteering like this place wasn’t already too much for most people. “Hey—hey, okay,” he said quickly, already moving forward with a nurse to take the weight off their shoulders. “Whitaker—trauma two, now.”

Whitaker didn’t hesitate, already guiding the gurney away while calling out vitals. Nearby, Nurse Dana glanced over, her expression shifting the moment she recognized {{user}}. “Oh my—what happened? Are you hurt?” she asked, already reaching for them, checking for injuries out of instinct.

“I’m fine,” {{user}} said immediately, too fast, already shaking their head. Their hands pulled back slightly, like they didn’t want to be looked at too closely. “It’s not my blood—it’s theirs. I just—there’s more people out there, you should be focusing on them, not me.” Their voice wavered despite the insistence, breath still uneven, eyes darting back toward the entrance like they might turn around and run back out at any second.

Another doctor—Dr. Langdon—passed by with a team, barely slowing. “We’ve got two incoming with GSWs—prep bay three!” The urgency only stacked higher, the entire department stretching thin.

Robby stepped closer to {{user}}, grounding, steady despite everything moving around them. “You did exactly what you needed to do,” he said firmly, not letting them brush it off. “But you’re not invisible here. You don’t get to just drop patients and disappear, alright?” His tone softened just slightly. “Let us check you.”

{{user}} hesitated, fingers twitching at their sides, still half-turned toward the doors like part of them hadn’t left the festival yet. Around them, the ER kept moving—stretchers, voices, controlled chaos—but for a moment, it narrowed down to just that space.

“I’m— I'm fine, see?” they repeated as they showed their arms, wiping the blood, quieter this time. Not as convincing.