Chapter 20- RACHEL

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Rachel

 At least my four hours of sleep were four solid hours because Doc is busy, and it's only nine A.M., which means I'm an hour in and there's a lot left to do.

The distraction is good, though, and I've already learned a lot of the practical stuff. The order to getting everyone's blood pressure and weight, and how to work Doc's computer system.

I finish up the chart and just hit save when Doc's voice is behind me.

"Eamon just stumbled in looking like he was drug behind a truck. Says you stitched him up the first time and I thought maybe you'd like to do it again."

My mouth dries out and my heart bangs in my ears. "How does he even know I'm here?"

"I mentioned it once I finally convinced him to come all the way in and lie down." Doc pats my shoulder. "I got everything else covered if you can patch him up and send him on his way."

I take the few steps to the room where Eamon is and stop outside the closed door trying to find enough air to speak. Why this?

Maybe it'll be good. Maybe this will catapult us back into something like friendship.

"Eamon LeJeune," I say as I open the door, looking at the tablet that holds his chart. "I'm shocked to see you--"

I freeze when I take him in. Deep, dark rings under his eyes and small scratches fill every bit of visible skin.

"That bad, huh?" He gives me a lame attempt at a smile and my heart breaks a little at how he does this to himself.

I swallow a lump that's formed at too many things for me to count. "What was the stunt this time?"

He clears his throat to speak, and I turn away from him, rummaging in unfamiliar cupboards to find what I need. I start setting gauze and disinfectant and wraps on the small tray.

"No stunt. Jumped out of a train to get home."

I freeze for a moment as the stupidity of his actions. Does he give a shit about anything? Even himself? I start sliding open drawers, even though I know I have everything I need. "I see..." I bite down to keep the rest of what I actually want to say to him locked inside me.

Finally I'm at the point where I'll have to face him again because I've run out of drawers. "Let's get some of these washed out, and then we'll work on re-doing the stitches, okay?"

"It wasn't a big thing, Rach. I was just hitching a ride home 'cause--" But he stops short.

"Because you left in her car," I finish for him. Lord, I swear I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but I know it seeps in. My stomach caves as I think about all the small moments between us that I thought were so unique and special, that he might actually have with every girl he's with.

Eamon closes his eyes as I run the cool saline over more tiny scratches than I can count. Even when I have to pick out small rocks or rinse out dirt, he doesn't flinch, he just lies still. This is old hat to Eamon, and he may think that that's impressive, but I find it old now.

Maybe it's better that we don't talk. I rinse his arms off next and try not to think about the way his familiar hands traveled over my body. But I can't stop the shiver that runs through me, and I have to release a slow breath to keep my head and heart from spinning out of control. The wound where his last stitches were is healing nicely, so I just put a couple of butterfly bandages over it instead of re-doing them.

"Okay. Sit up. You've got a nasty cut on your forehead. I'm gonna have to stitch it up."

Eamon slowly sits up, finally opening his eyes. "Cool that you're working here."

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