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Mel was not one to often swear, but, occasionally, when the moment called for it, the words tumbled past her lips. Today -- the last hour -- just this second – called for it.
“Fuck.”
The woman looked at her, panicked, before a small smile cracked her face, dry laughter tumbling past her lips. “that’s not something you want to hear from the doctor.” She quipped. No, it was not.
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Mel takes extra time (she probably shouldn’t) to treat a patient in the rushed chaos of the mass casualty incident. That patient: Hannah foster; a girl most likely on the spectrum.
(Can be read without any knowledge of what the fuck starkid is)