For as long as she can possibly remember, Michael Brentwood (Scott Foley) has always been Amy's lifeline, the only person she can count on to heal her pain, not only emotionally but more importantly, physically. He's unbelievably kind, compassionate...
Despite having worked a typical twelve hour shift, that started at seven in the morning and ended at seven at night, swung by Ralphs to pick up some groceries then went down to Mel's Diner to grab a bite to eat, surprisingly, Michael wasn't that tired as he drove down Sunset Boulevard on his way home. In fact, he felt great. It might have been because he laid down to rest in a vacant exam room in-between his shift, successfully getting in an extra hour of sleep. Well, an hour when you added up each fifteen minute break.
To be honest, he didn't need the extra sleep, but after darting back and forth between traumas and other patients, being an emergency physician could take a lot more out of a person than some might expect. The rest and relaxation had done him good. However, no one, not even himself, could prevent the nurses from waking him up before his break ended. There was no way to predict when the next trauma would come rolling through the ER doors and when that time came, he would be woken up to help his fellow doctors out.
Unfortunately, as he glanced out of the passenger's window at the passing shops and nightclubs, he couldn't help but notice another doctor that could use his help. Andrew and...wait, was that Amy? He pressed his foot to the break pedal, slowing as he approached The Roxy to get a closer look at Andrew, and the brunette clinging to his side as they walked towards the parking lot.
It was Amy, a very intoxicated and sick looking Amy.
His physician instincts went into overdrive along with his heart. Stealing a quick glance in his rear view mirror to check for any on coming cars, he instantly pulled his silver Mercedes Benz into a vacant spot along the curb, shut off the engine and got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Quickly walking around to the back of the vehicle, he jumped up onto the sidewalk. "Andrew!"
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Andrew stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his name. His brows stitched inquisitively as he turned around, Amy still in his arms. "Mike? Hey, what are you doing here, man? The party's already over."
Michael strode towards the two of them, barely glancing at the door to the club as he did so. "I can see that. What are you doing? What's wrong with Amy?" He stepped closer to her, reaching out to brush her hair away from her face and check her pupils, but she lifted her head and swatted his hand away with a groan.
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