Sam shifted uncomfortably in the Emergency room as he waited for his name to be called. He didn’t explain why he was there just that he needed to see a nurse or a doctor he wasn’t picky. In fact if it took too long he’d probably just stich himself up with some dental floss or some ice like he normally did until his wound healed. There were people that were far worse off than he was and he still had some alcohol in his system so he decided not to raise a fuss about it. Sure there was healer back at the mansion but lately he had been getting far too many a lecture from Doc and now Ghost was involved as well. Telling him to stop being so stupid. Sam didn’t want to prove them right.

Today he felt stupid sitting in the ER room slowly getting more tired as the makeshift tourniquet around his right bicep absorbed more blood. The one time he thought he was dealing with a normal purse-snatcher he ran into a mutant who could shoot white-hot knives from his fingertips. If it weren’t for his ice armor it would have been worse maybe more damage to his arm or even hitting the bone. Luckily for Sam it just took some skin off and went into the muscle. His arm hurt and on the outside of the skin around the wound was burned but the wound itself was untouched keeping the blood flowing. He shifted uncomfortably once again as he reached into his back pocket.

A small silver flask which was close to empty now reached his lips as some whiskey wet his lips he took a long pull then shook his head slightly. Doc was defiantly going to be upset if he found out which was why he thought it best to come to a hospital where they sewed people up all the time instead of just healing them so in the ice-mancers irritated, sleep-deprived and buzzed state it made sense to come here. As long as there were no needles involved Sam’s trip to the hospital would only be time consuming… not a nightmare.

Juliette rubbed some hand sanitizer across her already dried out hands as she waved goodbye to her previous patient. She rolled her shoulders back, letting out some of the tension in her muscles. Was it late or early? She had no idea at that point. Whatever. Time for the next patient, anyways.

"Sam Johnson?" She called across the waiting room. Her eyes scanned the crowd. It was fairly empty on that day - definitely an anomaly. The patients that were waiting consisted of an elderly couple, a mother and son, a group of fairly drunk teenage girls and a blonde man in his twenties. Judging from the age listed on the form, she made eye contact with the blonde man.

The group of girls giggled loudly and pushed each other off of their seats. Juliette decided that she had dodged a bullet when she was handed Sam's form. There was nothing like pumping the stomachs of drunk minors.

”Yo yo!” Sam said as he raised his injured arm only to remember that it was injured. Sam clenched his jaw and rolled his eye as he mentally kicked himself again for being so stupid today. Some days were just worse than others. Sam smelled some alcohol as he walked past a group of giggling girls and wondered what bar they were just at to get so liquored up. Had he been there before? Most likely, but he wouldn’t have remembered. He had a lot of those nights lately.

The old people caught his eye next then he looked to the mother and son. He was curious what had brought them in to the ER but they were both still out here and from what he recalled they take people by the severity of the case right? ”Err… I can wait…” Sam said his tourniquet still absorbing blood and now leaking a little down his arm. Maybe he should have used his shirt instead of a rag he found.

”This isn’t bad and if someone needs more help than I do…” he looked back to the old couple then back to the woman who called his name. Of course he’d have an attractive nurse. Sam smirked, ”But if you’re going to help me out I think I might need immediate medical attention.”

The man stood up, and Juliette noticed the eye-patch on his face. It didn't seem to be bothering him, so she figured it wasn't the thing that had brought him to the ER. Then he lifted his arm. It was definitely the arm. It was bleeding through the make-shift tourniquet he appeared to have fashioned and was dripping onto the floor.

Juliette rolled her eyes at him as he spoke. Oh, he was one of those guys. Suddenly, she found herself wishing she had been assigned to the elderly couple. "Look, if your name has been called, I would suggest going with it. Otherwise, it could be a few more hours. Besides, it seems you're bleeding on the floor. The sooner we get you stitched up, the less there will be to clean."

She looked him dead in the eye and gave him a look, hoping that he wouldn't argue. She had argued with patients about this before, and at one point or another, someone would always stand up and offer to take their place. Then, all hell would break loose. She would definitely take being hit on by a drunk guy over a fight with an angry suburban mother.

No one behind him said anything right away but he already started walking behind the attractive lady before he turned back to her and raised an eyebrow pointing at some doors then some others wondering which way to go. ”Well come on which way… don’t want to bloody up your floor too much right?” Sam smirked. She had held eye contact with him and seemed pretty stern so he wanted to make it easy for her as possible. Sam enjoyed interacting with women like her. They seemed to speak there mind which given Sam being Sam it made sense as to why he liked that.

”Athena isn’t working today right?” Sam asked cautiously as he opened up a door and looked into it before he turned back to who he now assumed was a nurse not a receptionist due to the color of her scrubs. Athena was an ex-girlfriend who worked as an EMT. Needless to say she wouldn’t be happy to see him in the hospital in need of a patch up. She’d probably lecture more than Doc would.

”And you are?” Sam said offering his left hand to shake instead of his injured one.

"This way," Juliette instructed as she weaved her way through the mess of patients. After a second, she stopped in front of a stretcher warded off by a blue curtain on either side. "You can go ahead and take a seat."

Instinctively, she moved the clipboard a little in front of her chest. She already been hit on that night, and she wasn't all that interested deflecting it while working again.

"No, Athena finished her shift a little while ago. Why, do you know her?" Juliette asked him curiously as took a seat on the little rolling stool. "And yes, I am working. I'm not one to dress up as a nurse and issue fake medical advice. Is it alright if I unwrap this?" She asked him as she examined the tourniquet on his arm.

"How exactly did this happen?" She asked him as she waited for his consent. There wasn't a clear medical history on the form, and she wasn't sure exactly what to look out for as she treated him. She watched him closely, interested to hear his story.

When Sam sidestepped and let the nurse take the lead he was reminded why he didn’t like coming to hospitals between the over crowdedness and poor lighting there was the smell. Sam hated the smell of bleach and disinfectant it reminded him of his childhood that was filled with a creaky fan poor reading choices and the occasional manipulation of a young kid to kill someone. Sam was that kid and he still hated himself for it.

Sam’s sixth sense kicked on automatically as he followed his nurse as well most would feel a cold spot in the room or if they were closer to Sam they would suddenly feel like there was a couple windows opened somewhere. Sam saw everything at this point the rush of information made him wish he was a little more drunk. Patients with high fevers shown like beacons of bright red while others were darker in color hue. Sam ignored them best he could and focused on the nurse.

The curtain shut and enclosed them in a make shift room, Sam looked around first then sat down where he was directed to. ”Ex-Girlfriend… I think…” Sam said as he leaned forward a bit and pulled a flask from his back pocket and unscrewed the top and took a sip. ”Decided it best to stay friends.” Sam said with a shrug. ”Nice lady… she stabbed me with a needle…” Sam shook his head as if he too was cold.

Sam eyed the clipboard, which she was holding as if there was a ton of information on it. Other than his blood type there shouldn’t be much more information. Sam didn’t come to hospitals and he doubted T.A.T. would willingly share his medical history. They didn’t exist so neither did his medical records. Sam nodded his head to her question and held out his arm a bit for her to remove the bandage which was now soaked in blood.

”A rag obviously.” Sam said as if that explained everything. ”Had to find a rag and stop the bleeding for the most part. Didn’t want to bleed out so I found a rag and tied it off best I could.” Sam reached the flask to his lips again before emptying the container and then gesturing towards the tourniquet. ”Looks good for a Mcguyver.” Yup even Sam had watched the show. Years after it’s run time but Shin had a way to convince him to watch shows like that.

Juliette sighed as she watched him drink from his flask. Technically, she wasn't supposed to let him do that, but she didn't feel like being the one to take alcohol away from someone who so clearly didn't like hospitals. He looked cold, but there wasn't really much she would be able to offer him at this point other than a gown - aka a sheet of thin fabric that left the back wide open.

She reached over to the little desk and grabbed a pair of blue latex gloves, stretching them over her fingers. Carefully, she untied the shirt from his arm. He hadn't done a bad job, actually. He had even compared it to MacGyver, which made her laugh. That had been one of her mom's favourite shows. Her mom had loved to admire the lead as he saved various people from situations with minimal materials.

As she examined the wound in his arm, she found it to be moderately deep. He had missed any arteries, though, so that was a good start. "Definitely going to need stitches," Juliette told him as she examined it.

"I still need to know how you were injured, though," Juliette explained to him as she held the shirt over the wound with one hand and opened a bottle of antiseptic with the other. "There's nothing on your form indicating any allergies or what shots you've gotten, so I need to know if I should be watching out for certain medications or if you might have been exposed to things like tetanus."

”Why I’m here.” Sam said with a shrug as he studied the nurse’s facial expressions. ”Oh, yeah.” Sam said with a shrug, ”A pickpocket who had some powers.” again he ended it as if that answered all of the questions instead of raising more, which it did.

”No allergies, I’m up to date on all my shots. Might need a physical soon but, I’ve been busy.” Sam said with another shrug. ”I’m just here for the stiches and maybe your phone number nothing else…” Sam said about to call her by her name instead of nurse but then he realized that she never gave it. ”…Nurse…” he was fine if her name was nurse.

”So are we talking stabbing wound deep or bullet passed through the other side deep.” Sam said looking down at his bloodied arm.

Juliette nodded as he recounted his story. Mutant powers meant a lower risk of infection. That was good. He would still need the antiseptic, though, just to be safe. He likely didn't want a skin infection in his arm. Especially since she was starting to get the impression that he worked in law-enforcement. 

"Juliette," she told him as he seemed to search for her name. She ignored the comment about her number, hoping he would simply drop the subject.

"It is pretty deep," Juliette told him when he asked. "You have what's called a laceration - a deep cut in the flesh. So, not as bad as a gunshot or a stabbing wound, but it'll definitely leave a scar. Maybe next time you'll remember this when you go head to head with a mutant."

She dabbed the excess blood off of his arm as she tipped a little of the antiseptic over the wound, letting the liquid work its magic. "This is going to sting a little bit. It should only last a second, though, and then we can get started on the stitches."

Sam nodded at her name and then nodded his head as he pretended he didn’t know what a laceration was. He had been cut, stabbed, burned, boiled, maimed, sliced and even had an eye removed when he went to the camps in Romania. A little laceration was nothing to having someone forcibly remove your eye. It totally sucked.

”You think I’m worried about a little sting?” Sam asked with a little chuckle, ”I just got lacerated, so” he said with a matter-of-fact tone as Juliette added the antiseptic and Sam let out a little breath escape from behind his teeth. ”Yup, sting.”

”Stiches are good. Stiches heal.” Sam waited a second before snapping as he just had thought of something clever ”There a Romeo?”

Juliette twisted the lid back on the bottle of antiseptic, glancing at Sam as she did. He let out a little breath, but that was all. Not even a wince. He must have been through worse, she assumed.

She gave him the courtesy of a chuckle as he used a tired joke."No, if there were a Romeo we would both be dead three days in. Romantic, huh? Thus with a kiss I die," she quoted and added in a little gasp and fake faint.

She stashed the bottle away in the little set of drawers next to the stretcher and took out a pair of forceps. She moved over to his arm and began to stitch it up in careful, well-practiced lines. It didn't take her all that long, and after she finished she placed a large bandage over top of the soon-to-be-scar.

"All done," she informed him with a hint of a smile. "You'll have to have to see someone to get the stitches removed after a few days, and if you have any issues, see your doctor right away. You likely won't need another trip to the ER, though. Just stay out of the way of pickpocketing mutants."

”I guess it could be less romantic though, three days to be next to someone as beautiful as you?” Sam let out a small chuckle again, ”Could be a lot worse ways to go.” Sam looked down as she started to work and stared at her hands as the little piece of metal dug into his arm and pulled his skin together.

Once she was done Sam seemed to relax some and moved his arm slowly to see if it would hold. It did. ”All done” Sam repeated before adding ”… What a shame.” he looked back to his arm, ”And if I wanted to run into you again, I’d have to come here or ask for your number?” Sam then pointed to his scar, ”So you know…. To remove the stiches…. Or grab a drink?” Sam turned to her and raised his good eyebrow in addition to the wide smile to punctuate the last bit.

Juliette couldn't help blushing a little as he asked her out. It wasn't the first time it had happened, in fact, it wasn't even the first time it had happened that day. But he was definitely the most smooth of all the suitors; even finishing the statement with a wide smile. She wasn't supposed to see patients outside of work, but he had only been there for a few minutes. Screw it. She had nothing to lose by saying yes. It had been so long since she had actually said yes to someone that it felt kind of foreign.

"Well, if I do see you for drinks, I can't treat you. Conflict of interest and all." Juliette informed him, "but my shift is over in... Three hours. Why don't you come back then? There's a bar down the street that isn't all that terrible."

”Heh.. cool!” Sam said trying hard to stifle him laughing at the word cool. ”Wouldn’t dream of having you by me drinks. You did save my life.” Sam nodded down to the stiches. ”Can someone die from not getting this stitched?” he asked wondering if it would have been best to keep a needle and some string on his person… just in case. Ice could always hold if he didn’t start keeping those on his person.

”I can be back in three hours. I just so happen to love bar’s that aren’t that terrible.” he had been to a lot of bad ones over the past few months maybe a new one would be a good change of pace. The regulars there were getting on a first name basis with him. Something Ghost would probably frown upon.

”So, I’ll pick you up in three hours out front?” Sam asked as he looked around, ”So… who do I pay for the stiches?”