APRIL 4, 2004...9:05PM

You had just finished your rounds in your section of the hospital, checking on a couple of patients before you attended to look over paperwork and other patient documents to help better their care. You worked at a rather small hospital, and it wasn't always super busy, however- you knew the nature of the job after two years here- shit could hit the fan at any moment.

The medical receptionist, Ashley, of this part of the hospital building was one of your closest coworkers there. She had been one of the first people to really make you feel welcome. You amble over to her as she typed away chipperly, and you asked with an innocent smile, "Would you be a doll, and fax over Mr. Howell's new information over to the cardiologist?"

She turns to you, with a playful scowl, "Do I look like your personal assistant?"

"I'm only asking so I have an excuse to see you." You bat your eyes to her, and she laughs.*

"Fine. Slow night for you?" She queries.

"Don't say the 's' word. You'll never know if we'll get a rush of patients in." You caution.

"What was Howell's first name again?" Ashley ignores you, going straight to the computer.

"It's-" You begin, but you're interrupted by the doors slamming open by a man, concern and fear evident on his face, and he points backwards without talking at first, trying to find the words.

"There was this guy- young guy, bleeding on the side of the road...he won't get up, he's in my car..." He rambles, and I immediately look to Ashley who is up from her seat, grabbing the next doctor she can page or find.

You run to the guy who parked his sedan in the emergency parking up close, the back door open, where you see the injured young man. He was unconscious, and had blood coating his temple, dripping down his face, along with bruises spotted over his body, and blood coming from a couple of different spots. You feel for a pulse on his neck, and he moans, blinking awake.

"Sir, are you awake? Can you tell me your name?"

"...Dean..." He rasps.