The urge you were feeling — the itch to roll your eyes and abandon this situation — was so immeasurably hard to ignore. But, somehow, you managed to push through.

The situation which was warranting such a reaction?

Micah Bell, sat smirking on your patient-only cot, holding a rag to his currently torn open (but not profusely bleeding, from what you could tell) leg, his face also pretty banged up and bruised.

“Are you gonna patch me up or what, nurse?” He spoke the title in an almost-but-not-quite mocking tone, the tone he always seemed to have when speaking of your part to play within the gang.

You were a doctor, damn it.