block me out | station 19

I

She ran. While the rain poured through the city of Seattle soaking her hoodie, and her shoes, full of water, made noise with every step she took. She didn't care, though. Anything was better than being with Mr. and Mrs. Woodlock. Anything.

After fifteen long minutes, the brunette finally came to a stop. Her bruised stomach couldn't handle any more running. So she stopped, looking around for any clue— anything to indicate that Mrs. Anderson, her social worker, was still following her. The coast was clear, finally allowing her to rest. A breath of relief could be heard leaving the child's mouth.

Dean Miller Memorial Clinic. Community clinic now open at Station 19, the poster on the streetlamp in front of her read.

Station 19. Didn't I just pass through it? The teen thought to herself. Maybe she could get her scraped hands and knees looked at. After all, they were really hurting.

—

Clinic day was going great. They had a pretty good number of people come in. Ben, a firefighter and co-worker at the clinic, looked happy. Well, he kind of always looked happy to Carina, but she supposed it meant it was a good day.

"Everything is looking great. The results came back negative, so you've got nothing to worry about," she said, smiling at the scared college girl sitting in front of her.

"Thank you, Dr. DeLuca. I guess I'll see you around then," the young blonde said, jumping from the clinic bed with a sigh of relief.

"Maddie, I say this with all my love, but I really hope I don't see you around here anytime soon. Please," the doctor laughed, waving goodbye.

The Italian headed over to the check-in table where Peggy and Dana, a volunteer couple, were holding up the line with their crazy stories and non-stop talking. Carina chuckled; Ben always told her they were a handful, but the tall brunette adored them. Everything felt lighter when they were around. However, this time it was another firefighter who was enduring the couple's rambling.

"Carina, we need to talk about–" Jack said, removing himself from the check-in table. "Just nod as if I'm telling you something interesting."

The doctor followed her friend's orders, laughing at the situation, "Is Peggy talking about her college years again?"

"Worse, they were telling me about Rose's pooping accident," he said, shaking his head hoping the images of the couple's daughter and Dana's hand covered in poop would go away.

—

Her knees were about to give up when she finally came across the big number 19 painted in red. She stood there, unsure if it was a good idea to actually go inside. It's just some scratches, she thought. But they really hurt. I'll just get them cleaned up and leave, she thought again. With a deep breath, she put on her best poker face and entered the station.

There were firefighters roaming around, people waiting to be checked out, and a couple of people wearing white coats. Yeah, I'm out.

"Oh, sorry," a voice said as she went to turn around. The young girl stood still, her gaze fixated on the ground. "Are you okay?" she heard, to which she quickly nodded. "Did you check in?"

The brunette thought for a moment, not really knowing what to say, "I was just leaving."

"Those scratches don't look so good, don't you want me to check them out? I'll be quick, I promise," the man said.

"I don't do white coats," the green-eyed girl said flatly. She looked around her and started to walk past him, but a hand on her shoulder made her stop, frightening her. She didn't like people touching her, and it seemed like the firefighter behind her understood, quickly removing his hand from the young girl's shoulder.