Chapters Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter One: Learning the Ropes - Part I
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter One: Learning the Ropes - Part I
Location: Ponyville Medical
A white medical carriage raced its way through the streets of Ponyville, its approach heralded by a magic-powered siren. Pulled by two large Earth Pony stallions in official Ponyville Medical uniforms, the carriage was swiftly approaching its destination: Ponyville Medical.
Waiting at the E.R. entrance to the hospital stood a white Earth Pony nurse with a pink mane. As head nurse of Ponyville Medical, she was barking out orders to the other nurses even before the ambulance had pulled up, preparing for the arriving patient. The moment that the drivers pulled up to the entrance, the nurses leapt into action, wheeling a gurney out of the carriage and into the hospital at speeds just below the point of being potentially dangerous.
A short while later, the same nurse was trotting down the hall of the E.R. ward with two Unicorn stallions. One, clearly the older of the two, had a light brown coat and dark brown, carefully styled mane. He wore glasses and a white coat, and had an EKG for a Cutie Mark. The other, younger stallion had a light blue coat and light brown, messy mane. He, too, wore glasses, but was without a white coat. His Cutie Mark was a blue pentagram.
As they trotted, the nurse spoke to the stallions, occasionally pausing in her rattling off of information to answer questions posed by the brown stallion, who was giving her his complete attention.
The young blue stallion, on the other hoof, was only partially paying attention. He was trying, he really was, but his thoughts were distracted by thoughts of: I wonder why Doctor Stables asked me to come? I'm supposed to be doing my rounds right now; what could he need me for?
Consumed as he was by his inner thoughts, he was quite surprised to hear the head nurse addressing him, annoyance clear in her tone. "Doctor Styles, are you even paying attention?"
Flustered at the attention suddenly on him, he simply blurted the first thing he thought of to say. "Of course, Nurse Redheart!"
Raising an eyebrow, Nurse Redheart appraised the blue stallion, before sighing in defeat, "No, you weren't. Doctor Styles, you really do need to take your job more seriously!"
Taken aback at being so easily found out, Dr. Styles scrambled to come up with an excuse. Eventually, he settled with the truth. "I do! I was just wondering why Doctor Stables called me here, and I guess I spaced out. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
"I should hope not," the brown doctor spoke up. Turning to face Doctor Styles directly, he continued. "If you had been paying attention, Direct, you would know that I called you here because I want you to handle this operation."
"Oh, is that all-wait, WHAT!?" Doctor Styles shouted, immediately earning him a shushing from Nurse Redheart. "But," he continued, "but Doctor Stables! I can't operate right now! I- I've got, um, rounds! I'm supposed to be doing my rounds right now! So, clearly, I can't operate at the moment!" His weak smile couldn't have convinced the most gullible pony in Equestria, and was certainly doing him no favors under the calculating glares of Doctor Stables and Nurse Redheart.
"Doctor Styles," Nurse Redheart's stern voice broke his already wavering façade, and his face fell as his gaze dropped until he was looking at his own hooves, "you're not an intern anymore. You need to realize that being a doctor comes with a lot of responsibilities," Reaching out with a gentle but firm hoof, she raised his head so she could look him in the eye, "and you need to start taking things more seriously."
The stallion looked away, ashamed. A moment later, however, he turned back to face them both. "You're right, Nurse Redheart, as usual. But," looking to Doctor Stables, he asked sincerely, "are you sure that you really want me to handle an operation on my own? What if-" he moved a bit closer, dropping his voice to an almost imperceptible whisper, "what if I mess up? I don't want anypony to get hurt just because I'm inexperienced."
It had only been a short while since Doctor Styles had completed his residency and become a full-fledged surgeon at Ponyville Medical, and while he certainly knew how to operate, he had very little experience with actually doing so with a real patient.
Doctor Stables took a step back, putting them at a more professional distance, cleared his throat, and responded, unable to keep a hint of kindness from sneaking into his professional demeanor. "Don't worry, Direct. The patient is in no real danger. This is a simple extraction procedure, you should be able to handle it on your own by now."
Visibly relieved, Direct Styles rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh," he chuckled weakly. "Why didn't you say so?"
Redheart rolled her eyes as she turned to continue down the hall. "If you had been listening to my briefing, Doctor Styles, you would have heard me say that earlier."
The young doctor gave a nervous chuckle as he and Doctor Stables followed the white mare down the hall.
Half an hour later, Doctor Styles sat at a table in the briefing room next to the Operating Room in which his patient lay. Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stables were also present, the former standing at the front of the room with a collection of medical charts, while the latter, having just entered the room, moved to sit across from him.
Once Doctor Stables had taken his seat, Nurse Redheart began speaking.
"Let's begin the briefing. Our patient is Super Deal, a thirty-three-year-old Earth Pony stallion. He was found just inside the Everfree by a local farmpony. From what we can tell, he was attacked by a lone Timberwolf, and sustained several minor injuries."
The Everfree ? Doctor Styles wondered. What was he doing out there on his own ? The Everfree Forest was probably the most dangerous place in all of Equestria. Most ponies steered as far clear of it as they could. That was part of the reason why Ponyville was such a small town: it was built right next to the forest. To go in there alone, somepony would have to be either very brave, or very stupid.
Setting aside his ponderings, Direct continued listening to Redheart's briefing. "The patient has several lacerations on his chest and right foreleg, as well as foreign objects embedded throughout the same area. There will be two main objectives to this operation: suture any lacerations, and remove the foreign objects."
Turning to Doctor Styles, Doctor Stables spoke up. "Remember, Direct, the patient is in no imminent danger. Be thorough, and focus on precision over speed."
With conflicting feelings of confidence and nervousness flowing through him, Direct stood from the table. "Alright, then. Let's begin the operation."
Doctor Styles, now decked in a surgeon's gown and mask, stood over the unconscious form of an orange Earth Pony stallion. To Direct's right, Nurse Redheart managed a cart covered in various surgical instruments. Across the table, Doctor Stables was watching closely, present only in case of serious complications.
The patient's coat had been carefully shaved away from the injuries by other nurses, in order to prevent problems caused by the hair getting into the wounds. His chest had three long but shallow lacerations, arranged parallel to one another as they ran down across the right side of his chest. Near the end of the middle laceration, a wooden claw was sticking out. His right foreleg held a similar row of four lacerations, all of them ending in a sharp wooden tooth, clearly ripped from the Timberwolf's mouth as it tried to take a bite.
Her preparations complete, Nurse Redheart gave a quick nod to each doctor, then began instructing Doctor Styles. "Let's begin the operation. First off, you should start by suturing those lacerations," she pointed a hoof at the three long cuts on the patient's chest. "Take these sutures," she hoofed him a needle and a roll of suture thread, which he grabbed in a blue magical aura "and simply trace a zig-zag pattern across the laceration. The enchanted needle will take care of the rest."
Direct did as he was instructed, rolling his eyes as Nurse Redheart went on about the conveniences of modern magic. In all honesty, he already knew how to use sutures. However, the review was still very much welcomed by the more nervous part of him.
When the enchanted needle finished stitching up the final laceration, Nurse Redheart gave Direct a quick smile and nod. "Good work, Doctor Styles. Of course, stitching is one of the most basic surgery skills," Nurse Redheart took the needle and thread, stowing them back on the cart. "Now that that's done, we should move on to those embedded objects," she pointed a hoof at the claws and teeth in question, then retrieved a pair of forceps from the cart, hoofing them over to Direct's magical grasp.
"Just grip the object securely with the forceps, then carefully pull it out, right?" Direct's training was all returning to the forefront of his mind, and his voice held an amount of confidence that surprised even him.
Redheart's nod and smile told him all that he needed to know. "Exactly. Mind the direction as you remove the foreign objects, then place them in this tray," she said, pulling out a small tray as she did so.
Refocusing his attention on the patient, Direct carefully levitated the forceps into position, squeezed them closed on the Timberwolf claw, and slowly pulled it out of the hole it had created. Once it was out, he moved it over to the tray held by Nurse Redheart, and opened the forceps, dropping the claw into the tray. Repeating the process four more times, he removed each of the teeth from the patient's foreleg.
"Good work, Doctor. Now, all that's left is to seal up these smaller wounds left by the foreign objects. They're too small to require sutures, so we'll just use this," Nurse Redheart held up a small container filled with a green substance. "Apply a little bit of this Antibiotic Gel to each wound to heal it right up." As Doctor Styles grabbed the vial, she put a hoof to her chin in thought. "You know, 'Antibiotic Gel' is a rather inaccurate name, since it does so much more than just kill bacteria. In fact, it also-"
At this point, Direct was once again happily tuning her out, focused on applying a dab of the green gel to each of the small wounds. He watched as they quickly clotted up, sealing themselves in a matter of seconds. The gel truly was a miracle of modern science, killing bacteria, viruses, and a myriad other pathogens as well as stimulating the process of hemostasis, and even acting as an adhesive to hold things, like fractured bones, in place.
Swiftly completing his task, Doctor Styles looked down on the healed patient. Feeling his body relax as the tension of the operation flowed out of him, he was quite happy to declare: "Operation complete."
Finally ceasing her tangential rambling, Nurse Redheart studied the patient with a surprised expression, while Doctor Stables expertly stifled a grin. "Good work, Doctor Styles," she stated at last.
"That was quite impressive, Doctor Styles."
"Thank you, Doctor Stables. I'm just glad there were no complications." With the operation finished and the patient out of the O.R, Direct Styles was back in the briefing room for a post-op debriefing. Doctor Stables and Nurse Redheart were once again present.
Redheart nodded, "As we all are. Congratulations once again on a successful operation, Doctor."
"You definitely showed yourself to be quite focused during the procedure," Doctor Stables continued. Leaning closer so only Direct could hear, he added, "Not everypony can tune out Nurse Redheart's ramblings so well."
Both doctors stifled a snicker as their gazes flickered to the nurse in question, blissfully unaware of their attention. She was studying a clipboard that she had received from another nurse. Looking up, she turned her attention to Doctor Stables, who was now sitting at a normal distance from a whistling Doctor Styles. "Doctor Stables, it would seem that you are needed elsewhere." Her voice and calm expression were a bit strained, but Direct was too busy keeping his laughter internal to notice.
Doctor Stables stood and trotted over to look at the clipboard himself. A few seconds later, he turned back to Direct, his voice even more serious than usual. "Doctor Styles, you may go. I believe you have rounds to get back to?"
Though confused at his sudden dismissal, Direct stood and walked over to the door, exiting through it and trotting down the hall back toward his office. What was that all about?
Author's Note
Here it is at last!
Yes, a lot of the story, especially the beginning, will be directly based on the game. I hope to move a bit away from that as time goes on and the story progresses.
Leave a comment if you liked it (or if you didn't), and tell me why! It helps me write better when I know what is and isn't working.
Thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter One: Learning the Ropes - Part II
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter One: Learning the Ropes - Part II
Location: Ponyville Medical
Doctor Styles sat in Doctor Stables's office with both the doctor himself and Nurse Redheart. The room was rather large for one pony, but with three present it seemed just right. Other than the ponies, most of the room's space was taken up by a large wooden desk, a few filing cabinets, and four chairs, one behind the desk and three in front. Doctor Stables sat behind the desk, looking through a stack of papers with one ear cocked to listen to Redheart. The head nurse, sitting next to Direct in front of the desk, was, as usual, talking. Equally as usual was Doctor Styles's staring off into the distance, completely tuning out Redheart. "...any questions, Doctor Styles?" she finished, turning to face him.
Jolting out of his reverie, Direct whipped his head back around to face the nurse, and gave as generic an answer as he could, hoping to cover the fact that he had not been listening. "Uh, no. I'm good."
Redheart facehoofed. "Doctor Styles, were you even listening?" His expression answered for him. "You need to stop slacking off. I know you're stressed about the operation, but this happens to be your job . These ponies are depending on you!"
As Direct withered under Redheart's glare, Doctor Stables piped up. "Don't forget about our follow-up appointment with Mr. Trip later today. Did you read the report?"
Direct tore himself away from Redheart's glare to cast a sheepish look at Doctor Stables. "Actually, no. I haven't."
"You need to shape up, Direct. This is real life, not some game." Doctor Stables said, frowning. "You aren't a resident doctor anymore, you should know that." With a final look of disapproval, Doctor Stables turned his attention to Redheart. "By the way, Redheart. I spoke to Doctor Healing for you."
She gave him an appreciative nod. "Thank you, Doctor Stables."
Direct, meanwhile, was quite confused. "You spoke to the Director? What for?"
"Never you mind, Doctor Styles," Nurse Redheart dismissed his question. "It doesn't concern you."
"It's a personal matter; forget I mentioned it," Doctor Stables added.
"Are you going on a vacation or something?" Direct pressed. "I wouldn't mind a break myself."
"Alright, that's enough of that. We do have an operation to perform, after all," Redheart rolled her eyes as she walked out of the room.
The nurse and two doctors were once again seated in the O.R.'s briefing room. The room featured windows covering most of the longer walls of the rectangular room, but the blinds were all drawn for privacy. The doctors were both seated at a long table, and Redheart stood at the head of it. She had a set of charts for their new patient, and gestured to them as she spoke. "Our patient is a twenty-five-year-old Unicorn, Dawn Blossom. She recently began experiencing abdominal pains, and was admitted to the hospital after tests found a number of tumors in her pancreas. The MRI confirmed that they are currently benign, but it was decided to remove them now, lest they become malignant. Any questions so far?" Redheart turned to Direct expectantly.
Direct Styles shook his head. "Not really, but maybe you could go over the procedure we'll be using?"
"Indeed," added Doctor Stables. "A refresher would be most welcome."
"Certainly," Redheart nodded. "We'll be using the Powell Procedure in this operation. The first step is to locate the tumor with an Ultrasound Spell, then use a scalpel to open it up. From there, we'll drain the tumor's cytoplasm. This significantly reduces the tumor's size, and makes it both easier and safer to remove. After that, we excise it, and cover the wound with a synthetic membrane. There is just one objective for this operation: excise all of the tumors in the patient's pancreas."
Nodding as he and Doctor Stables stood, Direct concluded the conference. "Alright, let's begin the operation."
The mare who lay unconscious on the white operating table was a pale blue in color, with a golden mane and tail. Her coat had been shaved away from a small area of her lower chest, and a faint line was drawn through the middle of the cleared area. The entire operating room was a pristine, sterile white, and it was very well lit thanks to a number of magic-powered lamps around the room, including an extra-powerful one directly above the table.
As Doctor Stables took his place on the other side of the table, once again supervising the procedure, and Nurse Redheart wheeled the cart of supplies into position, Doctor Styles mentally prepared himself. He did his best to calm his nerves, and went over the procedure once more. When Redheart was ready, she began instructing Direct.
"Alright, let's begin. We will be performing a laparotomy, so the first step is to disinfect the incision area. Apply some Antibiotic Gel." She passed him the gel, and he did as instructed. "Good. Now, use the scalpel," She hoofed over one of the sharp, knife-like instruments as he returned the vial of Gel, "and carefully incise along the guideline."
Taking the tool in his magic, he made a quick, clean incision along the predrawn guideline. It was a strange feeling, to be cutting somepony open, and he had not quite gotten used to it.
The incision had been placed almost directly over the pancreas, so they had a clear view as Direct went to work. Giving the scalpel back to Redheart, he performed an Ultrasound Spell several times, pinging different parts of the organ in his search for the tumors.
Before long, he had found one in the lower portion of the pancreas, and quickly took a fresh scalpel from Redheart to cut it open, spilling a bit of cytoplasm into the surrounding area. Redheart gave him the end of a long drain tube, which he used to suck up the cytoplasm, greatly reducing the size of the tumor down to a little lump of cells. Bringing the scalpel back in, he excised the tumor, then used the forceps to pull it out of the patient and place the little ball of cells on a tray. A small hole was all that was left, and Direct used the forceps to cover it with a synthetic membrane.
Synthetic membranes, like Antibiotic Gel, were a marvel of modern magic and science. They were created via a spell that synthesized proteins, then shaped them into a thin sheet of flesh-like material. They covered and protected wounds, giving the body time to repair itself while minimizing complications. The pure protein composition made rejection of the tissue impossible, and it would slowly break down, providing the body extra materials for its repair.
With the membrane in place, Direct applied a dab of Antibiotic Gel to hold it in place as he began casting the Ultrasound Spell again, searching for more tumors. He found one near the middle of the organ, and one in the top-right corner. Each was treated in the same way as the first: drain, excise, remove, and cover the hole.
While the procedure had been going on, Redheart had been checking over the instruments giving a readout of the patient's vitals. When the third wound was treated, she proudly announced, "The patient's vitals have stabilized; looks like that's all of them!"
Pushing his glasses back up his muzzle with a flicker of magic, Direct returned the forceps to Redheart, and took the sutures in his magic and closed up his entry incision. Next, he applied a generous amount of Antibiotic Gel to sanitize the wound, then covered it with an adhesive bandage. Stepping back from the operation table and wiping a little sweat from his brow with a hoof, he declared, "Operation complete."
"You're what !?" Direct nearly shouted. Back in Doctor Stables's office, the two doctors and one nurse had met for a short debrief after the successful operation.
Nurse Redheart cringed a bit, but replied as calmly as ever, “You heard me, Doctor Styles. I’m leaving.”
He had already heard it once, but he could still only stand there for a few moments, jaw agape. Finally, his overloaded brain managed to push one question through: “But- But why ?”
This time, it was Doctor Stables who responded. “Because she’s needed elsewhere. Hospitals in Manehattan have been extremely understaffed as of late, and the Equestrian Medical Association has been requesting volunteers to transfer to help relieve some of the stress in those hospitals.”
Redheart nodded. “And I have chosen to accept the call. I will be transferring to Manehattan Medical, the largest hospital in the city.”
While they had been explaining, Doctor Styles had calmed down considerably. So that's what she needed to speak to the Director for... "But, what about here? Who will take your place as head nurse?"
Redheart smiled, "Well, that's not up to me, but I'm sure they'll pick someone who's up to the job." She shared a look with Doctor Stables, who spoke up.
"On a related note, Doctor Styles, with Nurse Redheart gone, you'll be needing a new assistant."
Direct tilted his head in thought, then answered with a rather lame "Oh, yeah. Hadn't thought of that. So, what, am I supposed to pick somepony, or..." he trailed off.
Redheart giggled, "She's already been hired, and she should be arriving just before I leave tomorrow."
"Oh," Direct rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Then, he turned to face Redheart directly. "Tomorrow, huh? Then, this was..."
Redheart finished his thought for him. "Yes, this was my last time assisting you with an operation, and I was quite happy to see how well you did. I think you should be fine without me," Redheart smiled.
Direct was taken aback for a moment, but finally smiled back. "Thanks, Redheart. I'll try to live up to your expectations. Oh, and good luck in Manehattan."
Author's Note
To those of you who know about the Trauma Center games: you have no idea how hard it was to not name the Director "Hoffpony"
We're finally through the game's tutorial episodes, and things will hopefully start to pick up in the next couple of chapters.
As before, please leave a comment telling me what you liked and didn't like so I can make both this story and my writing better.
Thanks so much for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Two: Farewells and Greetings
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Two: Farewells and Greetings
Location: Ponyville Medical
The lounge room was typically one of the least-used rooms in the hospital, only ever occupied by doctors and nurses taking a quick break between appointments, or those too busy to leave for lunch. The bland, off-white walls and worn furniture of the room would have been a source of complaint elsewhere, but the doctors and nurses were glad for the break it provided from the typical sterile white coloring and rigid, uncomfortable seating.
The room was used most during the night shift, by the few ponies remaining at the hospital who were only there in case of an emergency. Tonight, however, the room was almost filled to capacity by nearly all of the staff of Ponyville Medical. Just inside the main doors of the room, Redheart stood next to another nurse, a red Pegasus mare whose black mane was done up in a bun. Direct had never bothered to learn her name, but she had been selected to take Redheart's place as head nurse. The red mare had caught an unsuspecting Redheart before she left for the night, and brought her to the suspiciously darkened lounge. Now, Redheart was recovering from having her coworkers jump out at her in a typical surprise party fashion.
"After almost two decades of dedicated service here at Ponyville Medical, we felt you deserved a proper send-off," the nurse smiled broadly as she gestured to the room, which had been sparsely decorated for Redheart's going-away party. The most prominent of the decorations was a large banner hung across the length of the room, proclaiming "Farewell Redheart!" in large letters. Somepony had also tied up a few of the colorful helium baloons that were given to any foals who ended up in the hospital. Finally, the center table was home to a number of treats, purchased from a local bakery.
Finally recovered from her initial shock, Redheart took in the room, noting the decorations and the many familiar faces. Everypony was smiling at her, despite their sadness at losing a longtime coworker and friend. Redheart smiled sincerely, "Thank you, everypony. It means so much to me that you would go to all of this trouble just for me."
A chorus of replies sounded, followed by everypony laughing over the fact that none of them could be understood over each other. With that, Redheart and her escort entered the room proper, and the party began. Redheart wound her way through the lounge, saying hello and farewell to everypony she had come to know over her many years at the hospital. At last, she found herself speaking to Doctor Styles.
The young stallion had been patiently waiting for Redheart to finish talking to everyone else, taking the opportunity to think out what he would say. Finally, the two were standing face to face, and all of Direct's planning went out the window. "So... This is it. Your last day here."
Redheart nodded, "Yes, I leave for Manehattan tomorrow."
"I... see," Direct's gaze dropped to his hooves as the full weight of the situation hit him. Redheart was the only nurse he had worked with so far, and whether she knew it or not, she had had a huge part in helping him gain confidence in his abilities as a surgeon. And now, she's leaving. I might never see her again... The thought of losing one of his mentors, and, dare he say it, friends, so suddenly was enough to overwhelm him, effectively ending the conversation as the young doctor felt his recently obtained confidence recede, replaced with his former insecurities. Can I even keep operating without Redheart helping me? He had really gotten comfortable working with her, which had allowed his inner talent to shine. However, it came at the cost of near dependence on her help, and he doubted if he would be able to work with anypony else.
Redheart seemed to hear his thoughts, lifting the doctor's chin with a hoof so their eyes met. "Direct, I've said it before and I'll say it again: you've come a long way from the nervous, insecure wreck you were before, and I have absolutely no doubt that you'll continue improving your skills and making ponies feel better. Even without me."
Redheart dropped her hoof, and Direct's head turned aside, eyes squeezed shut. A few seconds later, he turned back to her, eyes now shining with tears. "R-really?"
"Absolutely." Redheart said without hesitation. "I might have been rough on you before, but I had to if I wanted to help you improve. And look how well it worked." It was true: A few days after he had started working with Redheart, Direct had stopped coming to work late, and his confidence in the O.R. had skyrocketed since his first operation.
Direct opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of Doctor Stables, pushing his way past the other partygoers to get to them. "Sorry I'm late, Redheart. Lost track of time doing paperwork."
Redheart giggled lightly, "If I didn't know better, I might guess you'd fallen asleep at your desk again."
The doctor raised a hoof in mock defeat. "Guilty as charged," he snickered. "Guess Doctor Styles isn't the only one who spaces out occasionally."
Direct rubbed the back of his head with a hoof sheepishly. "Aww, c'mon guys. I'm right here..." he trailed off as the other two continued their banter. Wow, I've never seen them this... Relaxed before. They're entirely different after hours.
Pretending not to notice the young doctor, Doctor Stables continued, "I hope he doesn't start coming to work late again now that you're leaving. You were the only one keeping him in line."
Rolling her eyes and deciding that Direct had had enough teasing for now, Redheart changed the subject. "Well, I'm sure my new replacement can handle him. Speaking of which," Redheart took another look around the room, "where is she? She was supposed to have been here hours ago."
Not a moment later, a voice called out over the noise of conversation. "Excuse me," came the voice of an elderly stallion, "but is Miss Redheart here?" Most of the noise in the room ended as almost everypony turned to look at the white stallion just inside the door. He was tall for a Unicorn, certainly the tallest in the room, and his lack of body bulk gave him a stretched appearance. His very light grey mane and tail were long, but precisely maintained. He wore a set of glasses over his grey eyes, which quickly found his target. He strode into the room, his slow, occasionally rigid movements exposing the age of the otherwise healthy-looking stallion. The crowd parted as the pony advanced towards the trio, giving him a respectable distance as he passed, but returning to their previous activities once he had.
Doctor Revered Healing may have been the Director of Ponyville Medical, but he preferred being seen as a friend instead of a boss, and so went out of his way to get to know the entire staff. This, almost ironically, ended up further increasing their respect for the former world-class surgeon. However, there was one member of his staff that he hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know yet; the young blue stallion standing next to the nurse he needed to speak to.
Meanwhile, Direct, unfamiliar with the Director’s kind, almost grandfatherly nature, was having a bit of a mental freak-out. Walking right towards him was not only one of the greatest surgeons in recent history, but also his boss: the pony who, as far as Direct knew, could fire him at any moment and for any reason. His irrational fear quickly took full control of his mind, rooting him in place looking like a deer in the headlights.
The Director noticed Doctor Styles's behavior, and sighed mentally. The young ones always had the most extreme reactions. Still, he didn't have time to chat with the new doctor at the moment. Instead, he focused on the mare he had come to see. "Ah, here you are. The mare of the hour, it seems."
"Yes, sir," replied Redheart with a nod. Looking around with a smile, she couldn't help but add, "I still can't believe that everypony would go out of their way to throw me a farewell party."
"Well, I for one have long considered you one of the most valuable members of our staff, Miss Redheart."
The nurse's pure white coat did nothing to help disguise the light blush that came to her cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you, Doctor Healing. I only wish I could have stayed longer and continued learning from you."
The Director shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face as he did. "I'm afraid you've already learned everything you can from me; Doctor Stables surpassed me as a surgeon many years ago."
"As much as I'd love to debate that claim, Director," Doctor Stables butted in, "I was wondering if you had any word on Miss Redheart's replacement. She's not here yet."
As if on cue, the doors opened again. "Sorry I'm la-" The pink Pegasus mare at the door cut herself off when she noticed that everypony in the room was staring at her, having once again turned to see who had entered. She tensed up under all of the unexpected attention, green eyes wide and flitting back and forth across the room. Her coat was a bright pink, and her long blonde mane was tied up in a ponytail behind her white nurse's cap. Her Cutie Mark was a golden Caduceus symbol with white wings.
The room was silent until Doctor Healing spoke up. "Ah, you must be Miss Temperament. I'm glad you didn't get too lost."
Anypony who was paying close enough attention might have seen her cheeks turn a darker shade of pink as she allowed herself to relax a bit, even smiling. "Yes, that's me."
The crowd once again parted as the Director strode to the front of the room, pausing only to motion the group of three to come with him. When he reached the pink Pegasus, he shook hooves with her as he introduced himself, then stepped to the side and waved a hoof at the three with him. "And this is Doctor Stables," he pointed at the doctor in question, "our Head Surgeon. He will be helping you for your first few days at least, and all of your reports will be sent to him. This," he pointed next to Nurse Redheart, "is Nurse Redheart. I understand she was very eager to meet you before her departure, so it seems you arrived just in time." Redheart smiled and nodded before shaking hooves with Nurse Temperament, whose own smile grew. "Finally, this is Doctor Styles," the blue stallion waved nervously as he was pointed out, "your new partner."
Up close, Direct could see something about the nurse that surprised him. Namely, she looked to be around his age, if not a year or two younger. His brain warned him that what he was thinking might not be the best first impression that he could make, but his mouth had already gone on ahead. "Are you sure, Director? She seems a little, you know, young..."
Direct's brain could only give his mouth an 'I told you so' as it trailed off, visibly seeing Nurse Temperament's temper rising. Behind him, Redheart and Doctor Stables facehoofed, but it went unnoticed as the new nurse got up in the young doctor's face, her wings flaring out behind her. "I'll have you know that, on the way to catch my train from Canterlot, I witnessed an older stallion get run over by a runaway cart. I took him all the way to Canterlot General, and the paperwork took forever to fill out, so, yeah!"
By the time she was finished, she seemed to have changed from outright furious to simply upset, her wings returning to their position folded against her sides by the time she was done, and even she didn't seem altogether certain what she was justifying with her story. Nevertheless, Direct had learned his lesson. He cleared his throat, then set about trying to make his new assistant not mad at him. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have assumed anything just because of how young you are." He winced slightly at his own stupidity. "We really got off on the wrong hoof." Straightening up and dropping his sheepish expression for a more professional, but still friendly, one, he held a hoof out to shake. "I'm Direct Styles."
The Pegasus inspected him for a moment, then adopted her own mask of pure professionalism as she shook his hoof. "Angelic Temperament, and I accept your apology." Gone were the smiling and cheerfulness that had held through the other introductions, replaced with a face that seemed to say 'I haven't even gotten to know you, but I already dislike you.'
The tense staring contest between the two was broken when Redheart glanced at the clock hanging on the far wall and realized how late it was. Apologizing to the partygoers and explaining that she had an early train to catch, Redheart departed. Without the pony for whom the party was intended, it quickly fell apart. One by one or in small groups, everypony left. Seeing Redheart leaving, Doctor Styles said a quick goodbye to Doctor Stables and Director Healing, gave a hesitant nod to Nurse Temperament, and followed her out into the hallway.
"Redheart?" He called. The nurse stopped and turned around, cocking her head in confusion.
"Doctor Styles?" Redheart had been working with the young stallion for a while, but she had never seen him so nervous before. "What is it?"
Direct was silent as he slowly caught up to the older mare, but at last he no longer had an excuse to not speak his mind. "Redheart... I, um, well..." If only the blood rushing to his cheeks would flow to his brain instead, maybe he could actually think of something to say!
"Yes?" Redheart didn't want to be rude, but she hadn't been lying when she'd said that she had an early train to catch, and it was already very late.
The blue stallion seemed to be debating internally for nearly a minute, head down and lips moving silently, and Redheart was just about to say something when he finally spoke up. "I just... I just wanted to say... Thanks. Thanks for everything." Redheart was about to pipe in, but his eyes rose to meet hers as he continued. "You said it earlier, I was a wreck when I started working with you. I know I wasn't making it easy on you, but no matter what you never gave up on me. I just had to make sure I told you how much that means to me." His head faced to the floor again as he added one final comment, so quietly she hardly heard him. "You wouldn't have been the first to decide I wasn't worth the effort."
For several seconds that felt like an eternity to the two ponies, they stood there in silence, each with moist eyes. Finally, Redheart took a step towards the doctor, closing the already short distance between them. Direct brought his head back up to see what was going on, only to have a face full of pink mane as Redheart enveloped him in a hug.
It was quick, and Direct had just realized what was going on when Redheart released him, stepping back to their previous distance. Awkwardly, the nurse cleared her throat, cheeks blazing red. "Thank you, Direct."
Tilting his head in confusion and blushing deeply himself, he could only respond with "What for?"
Redheart took a while to answer, but when she did, it was with a light giggle. "For saying thank you, of course."
Redheart went from a light giggle to full-on laughter as Direct tried to tilt his head even further sideways at her confusing response. Eventually, he gave up, shaking his head. Mares . Refocusing his attention on his former assistant as she finally stopped laughing, he found that he only had one more thing to say. "Well, good luck, Miss Redheart."
Smiling, she nodded. "Good luck to you as well, Doctor Styles."
As he walked back to his modest apartment, Direct found himself reviewing the events of the party. As much of a confidence booster as his talk with Redheart had been, meeting his new assistant had been quite a trial. He wasn't sure what exactly had caused such an extreme reaction, but he supposed that he could understand her frustration at having somepony doubting her as soon as he met her. Well, he thought with a grim humor, At least work tomorrow won't be boring...
Author's Note
My first real attempt at putting emotion into words. Be honest: how bad was it?
As always, please leave a comment telling me what you liked/didn't like so I can continue doing it/stop doing it.
Thanks so much for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Three: Second Impressions
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Three: Second Impressions
Location: Ponyville Medical
The office of Doctor Direct Styles was a mess. His moderately sized oak desk seemed tiny compared to the piles of paperwork scattered across it, the bookshelf across one wall was completely disorganized, and the garbage bin in the corner was surrounded by crumpled up papers that had missed landing inside of it.
Nurse Angelic Temperament curiously flattened out one of said papers, and snorted in irritation when she found it covered in nothing but doodles. I know they said he was new, but this is ridiculous. Sighing, she picked it up and deposited it in the trash, then took yet another glance at the clock hanging on the wall. He's almost an hour late! What could possibly be taking him so long?
Nurse Temperament had been waiting for over two hours for her partner to arrive at the hospital. They were supposed to have their first operation as a team, and the pre-op should have started half an hour ago. She had hoped that he would arrive early, giving them extra time to prepare, but now they were very behind schedule.
She had just taken to pacing back and forth across the office floor when she heard the door open. The doctor who entered the room looked just as unkempt as his office, and had clearly run to work, if his panting was anything to go off of. Needless to say, Nurse Temperament was not impressed. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" she barely kept herself from shouting.
Direct Styles was still breathing heavily as he answered, "Sorry I'm late... Alarm clock broke... Woke up late..."
"Even so, this is unacceptable!" gesturing to the clock, she continued fuming at him. "You're nearly an hour late! Your patients should not have to wait just because you slept in!" She was practically yelling in his face by the end, and the shocked stallion had no chance to reply before his assistant headed for the door. "Now that you've finally arrived," her voice had dropped to a much quieter, but still hostile, tone, "I'll go and bring your patient in."
After the door quietly slammed behind her, Direct shook the cobwebs from his mind, then set to work tidying up himself and his office, trying to be at least somewhat presentable. He found the file for their first patient in the mound of papers on his desk, and quickly dumped everything else into a drawer to be sorted through later. He absentmindedly levitated the papers around the trash bin into it as he studied the file, simultaneously running one hoof through his messy bedmane.
Name: Forest Melody
He got no further into the file, as the door opened at that moment, revealing Nurse Temperament and a young Unicorn mare. Her coat was a dark green and her mane a dark blue, each splotched throughout with darker patches. Combined with her dark green eyes, her appearance was reminiscent of a dark forest, quite befitting her first name. As she took a seat at a chair in front of his desk, Direct noted her Cutie Mark: a pair of black eighth notes on either side of a microphone. The whole thing nearly blended into her dark coat, and Nurse Temperament barely hid a scowl at seeing the doctor inspecting his patient's flank.
The mare finally settled in and looked up just as Direct brought his attention back to the matter at hoof. Clearing his throat, he stuck one hoof over the desk for the mare to shake. "Forest Melody?" he asked. She nodded and shook his hoof as he introduced himself. "I'm Doctor Styles, and I'll be the operating surgeon in your procedure today."
"O-okay..." Forest mumbled softly.
Plowing right ahead, Direct began explaining the operation, or at least what he remembered from previous skimmings of her file. "We'll be removing a cluster of polyps from your outer trachea, and ensuring that there is no further damage present in the area. It's a delicate operation, but it should go fine."
Forest quietly blanched. "Umm, 'it should go fine ?'" she whispered, and both of the other ponies had to strain to catch what she was saying. Nurse Temperament too had picked up on his poor wording, and couldn't help but facehoof behind the oblivious doctor.
"Yep. We're hoping for the best."
Forest Melody had been, understandably, nervous about her operation. Now, however, she was practically terrified. Her body started trembling as she sat in front of the doctor who was doing nothing to inspire confidence. "H-hoping?" her voice was practically inaudible. Mercifully, Nurse Temperament butted in.
"If you'll come with me, Miss Melody," she trotted over and laid a calming hoof on Forest's back, "I need to take some readings before the operation." Forest ceased her trembling and visibly relaxed, standing up and walking with the nurse to the door. "Oh, can you wait out here for a moment?" Nurse Temperament said as they exited the room. "I need to collect some things." Nurse Temperament moved back into the room, softly closed the door, paused for a moment, then whipped around and marched up to a bewildered Doctor Styles. "Doctor Styles, what are you doing ?" she whispered harshly, getting right up in his face.
"Wha-" the young doctor sputtered, "what do you mean?"
"Miss Melody was obviously quite anxious about her operation, and instead of helping her feel better about it, all you've done is make her more nervous!" Her wings flared out behind her in agitation, and for a brief moment Direct wondered if she was about to start smacking him with them. Instead, however, she continued the beatdown verbally. "I swear, the only thing you could have done worse was to tell her that you had never performed this operation before!"
"But-" Direct tried to begin, but Nurse Temperament wasn't done yet.
"I don't know if you realize this, Doctor Styles, but this just so happens to be the patient's livelihood at stake, here!" Seeing his confused look, she facehoofed again, backing out of his face a bit as her wings started to fall back to her sides. "Since you obviously didn't read the file all the way through, let me fill you in. Miss Forest Melody is the lead singer in a popular new band. If this operation doesn't go perfectly , it's possible that she will never speak again, much less sing ."
With the extra breathing room, Direct was finally able to put two and two together. His brain went into overdrive to formulate a response. "Crap."
Nurse Temperament opened her mouth to speak, but what she was going to say was lost as she heard a light tapping on the door. Barely loud enough to be heard over the knocks came the voice of Forest Melody. "Umm, excuse me? Nurse? Are you coming?"
Immediately, Nurse Temperament's demeanor shifted. Her wings folded back against her side, her eyes softened, and her whole body relaxed. In a calm, kind voice, she called over her shoulder. "Yes, I'm coming." Turning back to Doctor Styles, she sighed. "Just... Just get ready for the operation." With that, she trotted over to where she had left a small stack of papers, rolled them up, and tucked them under a wing as she exited the room.
Doctor Styles sat in the briefing room, staring intently at the charts being set up by Nurse Temperament. From across the table, Doctor Stables was gazing curiously at him, wondering what had caused the younger stallion to suddenly be so earnest in his work. Not that he was going to complain about Doctor Styles taking his job seriously, of course, but he had been quite surprised when he had arrived in the briefing room to find Direct not only already there, but actually studying the reports on his own. What happened to having to go get him from the lounge and explain the entire operation on the way? he thought, rolling his eyes. Maybe this new nurse is even better than we thought...
The room was silent but for the rustling of papers for another minute or so, until Nurse Temperament had finished setting up the charts. Turning around to face the two doctors, she cleared her throat, grabbing their attention, and began the briefing.
"Our patient today is Forest Melody, a twenty-one year old Unicorn mare. Around a month ago, she began experiencing severe throat pains whenever she sang. A few tests were conducted, and it was determined that she had a cluster of polyps on her outer trachea. The polyps are very small, and this normally would not be pressing enough of an issue to warrant immediate surgical intervention. However, given the patient's budding singing career, it was decided that the quickest method would be the best.
"The operation will consist of two steps: using the surgical laser to incinerate the polyps, and checking the surrounding area for any other signs of damage caused by the growths. Any questions?" The two doctors shook their heads in unison. "In that case, let's begin."
Forest Melody's unconscious body lay on its back on the surgical table, the bright lamps above shining down on her. Her head was tilted back, exposing her whole neck, where a black incision guideline lay in the middle of a small patch of shaved skin, right above her throat.
Standing at the side of the table, staring down at the unconscious mare, Doctor Styles once again felt the weight of what he was doing hit him. Her entire life is in my hooves.. . Gulping slightly, he nodded and gestured with one hoof, signaling to Nurse Temperament, standing beside him with the usual tray of supplies, and Doctor Stables, standing across the table from them and looking on silently, that he was ready. "Let's begin."
"Then let's start with an entry incision," she said, hoofing him the bottle of green Antibiotic Gel. He gently applied a dab to the incision guideline, then traded the Gel for a scalpel. Wielding the small, extremely sharp knife carefully in his magic, he slowly cut along the guideline, making sure not to press too hard and accidentally cut open her trachea.
With the entry incision made, Nurse Temperament gave each of the doctors a silver eyepiece, then put one on herself. "Magnification lenses," Direct noted, "makes sense, working in such a small area."
Nurse Temperament nodded. "Just press the button on the side, and the crystal that makes up the lens will magically zoom in. Just be careful, since even the slightest movement can change your field of view dramatically." Both doctors nodded; this was something they already knew, though a refresher never hurt. "Now, let's have a look here..."
Following Nurse Temperament's example, Direct tapped the button on the side of the eyepiece, zooming in on the uppermost section of the patient's outer trachea. Immediately, he saw the problem area. A small section of the trachea was covered in a cloud of blood, underneath which Direct could make out a number of tiny, almost pimple-like growths. "It's no good, we can't do anything with this blood in the way. Nurse Temperament, could you hoof me the drain?"
"Already on it," she replied, sliding the plastic tube into Direct's field of vision. He took it in his magic's grasp, flipped it on, and moved it through the blood. In a matter of seconds, all of the blood had been sucked up. "Now that that's taken care of, let's see what we're dealing with, here."
A cluster of small growths covered most of the area under where the blood had been. Each one was tiny, not quite a milimeter in diameter, but the area they covered was fairly large. It was no wonder why Forest Melody had been experiencing pain.
After several seconds of taking in the sight, Nurse Temperament got them back on track. "Quit ogling and start the laser treatment already," she snarked. Opening up a small black case, she pulled out a thin black cylinder. It had a tiny opening on one side, through which could be seen a shard of magic crystal. She brought it over to the doctor, who took it in his magic. "Aim the opening at the polyps, then use your magic to activate the crystal. It will focus the power into a tiny beam of pure energy, which will come out of the opening and incinerate the polyps." Doctor Styles nodded. He had practiced with a surgical laser once or twice back in medical school, shortly after the neat little tool had been invented.
Doing exactly as Nurse Temperament had instructed, he carefully aimed the laser, then turned it on with a steady stream of magic. A thin blue beam fired out of the little black cylinder, incinerating a polyp almost instantly, and leaving a small wound where it had once been. Satisfied, he turned the beam off for a moment. "Good," commented Nurse Temperament, "the polyp is completely gone. Be sure not to continue focusing the laser when there's nothing to burn, though; you could cause some serious damage to the normal tissue if you aren't careful."
Nodding, Doctor Styles adjusted his glasses and the magnifying lens, then fired up the laser again, zapping a few more polyps. Suddenly, one of them erupted into another cloud of blood as he incinerated it. "Woah!" he exclaimed, shutting off the laser.
Nurse Temperament sighed. "It seems that it's impossible to remove all of the polyps without damaging at least some of the surrounding capillaries. Drain the blood quickly, and let's move on." Direct quickly complied, once more taking the drain. With the blood out of the way, he was able to switch back to the laser, and had the cluster of polyps incinerated in short order. "Now that that's done, let's take care of the wounds left behind by incinerating the polyps." She hoofed Doctor Styles the vial of Antibiotic Gel, and watched as he used his magic to spread it over the group of wounds. Before their eyes, the small holes healed over, leaving the entire section of trachea indistinguishable from the rest.
"Right. Now, I believe our next step is to search the rest of the trachea for any more problem areas, correct?" Doctor Styles asked.
"Right," Nurse Temperament responded. "Let's just slowly move our view down the length of the-oh my!"
Just below their previous field of vision, another, larger cluster of polyps rested. It, too, was covered in a cloud of blood, even thicker than before. "Oh boy," Doctor Styles sighed. "Looks like we'll have to take care of this one, too. It's a wonder that Miss Melody was feeling as well as she was."
With that, the pair got right back to work. After draining the blood, Direct charged up the laser again. There are so many of them... This is going to take forever, he groaned. But then, he had an idea. What if, instead of incinerating them one at a time, I keep the laser on and get a bunch of them in one go ? Feeling proud of his little plan, he put it into action, rapidly moving the laser from one polyp to the next as a continuous stream of magic burned tissue indiscriminately.
"Doctor Styles, stop!" Startled, Doctor Styles's focus slipped, and the laser shut down. Turning to the source of the shout, all he saw was a field of pink before he remembered to deactivate the magnifying lens, zooming out to see the simultaneously shocked and furious face of his assistant. He immediately wished he had left the lens on. "What in Equestria were you thinking !? Just look at all of the tissue damage you just caused!"
Doctor Styles looked, and even without his lens activated he could easily see the large patch of burned tissue he had just created, and how much of it hadn't been polyps beforehand. Dear Celestia, he realized belatedly, his eyes widening at the sight before him, that did way more harm than good... As he watched, blood began seeping from the burned area, completely covering it in no time at all. "I-I just wanted to speed things up..."
"And that's all well and good, Direct," cut in Doctor Stables, shooting Doctor Styles a stern look, "but as I've said before, you must never sacrifice precision for speed. What we do is far too important to risk messing up just to go a little faster."
"I'm sorry, Doctor Stables. I'll remember that, I promise." Direct's head hung in shame. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Nurse Temperament even reminded me about not letting the laser touch any regular tissue, but I still forgot. Maybe... Maybe Mom and Dad were right...
"Doctor Styles!" Nurse Temperament's shout broke Doctor Styles's inner thoughts. "Are you going to fix your mistake, or not?" She glared at him impatiently.
"Er, right. Let's continue the operation. Nurse Temperament, I'll need the drain to clear this blood." Reactivating their magnifying lenses, the two returned to the operation. Once again, Direct drained the blood obscuring their work area, then tried using the Antibiotic Gel to heal the burns he had caused. However, the burns were bleeding heavily, and the tissue seemingly refused to seal up properly. "It's not working! We need something else to cover these wounds with."
"How about a synthetic membrane?" Nurse Temperament suggested, retrieving one from the cart.
"That might work. Let's try it," Direct nodded slightly. Taking the membrane in his magic, he once again drained blood from the area, then covered the whole of it with the membrane. Acting quickly, he applied a generous amount of Gel to the membrane, causing it to attach to the surface of the trachea. The wound beneath was still bleeding, but the Gel-soaked membrane held fast.
All three medical ponies sighed in relief, glad to have fixed that problem. After waiting a moment to make sure nothing else happened, Doctor Styles went back to work with the laser, once again incinerating the polyps one at a time. Faster than he had expected, they were done. Another round of Gel closed up the small injuries, and a scan of the remainder of the trachea revealed no further problem areas.
"Well, it looks like we're done here," Nurse Temperament said at last. "Cease magnification, and we can close up the entry incision." Each of them removed their lenses, and Doctor Styles sutured the initial incision closed. After a coating of Antibiotic Gel and a bandage, Doctor Styles stepped back from the table at last.
"Operation complete."
Well, he's certainly improving, Nurse Angelic Temperament had to concede, watching as Doctor Styles spoke to Forest Melody, informing her that the operation had been a complete success, but he's still an inexperienced slacker . She, Doctor Styles, and Forest Melody were in Forest's temporary hospital room, herself standing by the door while Direct stood next to the bed that Forest was lying in. Doctor Stables had been called away shortly after the operation by a nurse informing him of an “urgent letter,” and she hadn’t seen him since.
"Don't try to talk just yet, your throat's still healing. But don't worry, give it a few weeks and you'll be singing just like before," Direct smiled, and the dark green mare smiled back. Even though she was unable to speak, the tears in her eyes made her mouthed "thank you" loud and clear. "Speaking of which, when's your next performance in Ponyville?"
As the doctor continued talking to his mute patient, Nurse Temperament gazed absently around the room. The walls were painted blue, while the ceiling was green. The floor was tiled, and each of the four beds in the room had a curtain that could, if necessary, be pulled all the way around it for privacy. The small table beside each bed held a small lamp, and Forest's had a glass of water as well.
"C'mon, Nurse Temperament, I think it's time to go get ready for our next appointment." Nurse Temperament was startled out of her reverie by Doctor Styles's voice right beside her, and she noticed that he had wrapped up his one-sided conversation with Forest and was now standing in the doorway.
"Ahem. Of course, Doctor." She followed him out into the hallway, and they were passing by a door to the front lobby when he held up a stack of completed paperwork.
"Hang on, I need to drop these off really quickly." With that, he turned and entered the front lobby. Without thinking, she followed.
No sooner had she stepped fully into the lobby than she heard an overly loud gasp. "I knew it!" Screamed an extremely high voice on the other side of the room, and she barely managed to look in time to see a bright pink blur tackle her to the ground. "I knew there was a new pony in town!" Shaking away the tiny birds that were flying in circles around her head, Angelic Temperament looked up to see a pink mare with a poofy pink mane sitting on her, gazing down at her with bright blue eyes and a smile that was so wide, it seemed physically impossible.
"Oh, hello, Pinkie." Direct nonchalantly remarked. "I see you've met Nurse Temperament."
"Hiya, Direct!" Pinkie giggled. "So, is this your new fillyfriend?"
Angelic Temperament blushed, scowled, and shouted, "NO!"
Pinkie giggled again, "Well, duh . I was just joking, Miss not-Direct's-fillyfriend.”
“Well, g-” Nurse Temperament started, still scowling.
“But!" Pinkie ended her rambling with an exclamation, cutting off Nurse Temperament's attempt to speak. "I don't know you, and that means you must be new in town, since I know everypony in town."
"That’s nice. Could you-”
"So!" Once again cutting off the mare she was still sitting on, Pinkie rambled onwards. "That means I need to get to know you, and what better way to get to know somepony than with a PARTY?!"
With that, Pinkie jumped off of Angelic Temperament, grabbed her hoof, and bolted out the front door, dragging the stunned nurse with her.
Direct stood by the front desk, staring at the door that the pink party pony and his assistant had just disappeared through, a slight smirk appearing on his face. “Well,” turning back to the attendant at the desk, he chuckled lightly. He, just like everypony else in Ponyville, had grown used to Pinkie’s antics eventually. “I guess you should just send in my next patient now; I think Nurse Temperament will be a while.”
Author's Note
Wow. I just wrote like 90% of this chapter in one sitting. Talk about a marathon.
Another huge shoutout to Legofan for not only editing this story, but for constantly challenging me to improve my writing in areas that I had never even considered before (inb4 he says something about how he's not really as good as I make him out to be). You, sir, are amazing.
As usual, feedback of all kinds is greatly appreciated.
Thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Four: Rising Tensions
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Four: Rising Tensions
Location: Ponyville Apartments
Doctor Direct Styles sat at the small kitchen table in the small kitchen of his small apartment, reading the morning paper as he enjoyed his breakfast of eggs and haybacon.
Ever since his first operation with Nurse Temperament, he had gotten more and more into the routine of his job, to the point that he didn't even glance up at the clock as he put the paper down, levitating his dishes to the sink and heading out the front door right on time.
As he trotted down the streets of Ponyville, he allowed his gaze to wander and take in the sight of the town in the early-morning light. It was early enough that only a few other ponies were out and about, leaving the streets mostly clear and quiet. It was a rather relaxing scene, Direct admitted to himself, and something he had come to appreciate about the small town after moving there from bustling Canterlot.
Direct's gaze and mind wandered as he made his way to the hospital, occasionally focusing to exchange "Good morning"s with those ponies that he knew well. His thoughts eventually arrived on the dinner reservations he had set up for the next day. He was going to be meeting a couple of very important ponies, whom he hadn’t parted with on the nicest of terms when he’d last seen them. He was, understandably, nervous about the meeting, and wondered if renting a suit for the occasion would help him make a better impression. He walked like this for several minutes, until finally he found himself approaching the pristine white hospital.
Right on time, Direct thought as he entered Ponyville Medical. After pausing for a moment just inside the front door, he began making his way back to his office, waving hello to the receptionist as he passed the front desk. I wonder what Redheart would say if she saw me getting here on time without her help. A wry grin crossed his face as he imagined her reaction. First, she'd probably order a CDT to see if I'd been replaced by a Changeling...
After a few more minutes of walking, his thoughts were interrupted by his arrival at his office. He unlocked the door and entered, shutting it behind him. Everything was in its usual place, he noted with satisfaction, and his desk was clear save for a stack of file folders containing the information for today's operations. He seated himself behind his desk and levitated the stack of folders over, scanning it quickly for his first patient of the day. Let's see... Ah, here it is. Brick, Lego . Extracting the folder he was looking for from the pile, Direct gently placed the rest of the stack into one of his desk drawers.
Turning back to the folder on his desk, he caught a glimpse of something else laying on the desk where the stack of folders had been. Upon taking a closer look, he saw that it was a letter, addressed to him with a return address in Manehattan. Ignoring his work for the moment, he opened the letter and began to read it.
Dear Direct,
It's me, Redheart. Remember me? I sure hope you haven't forgotten me already, though I guess I wouldn't be too surprised, what with your pretty new assistant...
Direct felt himself blushing at the obvious jab. Even through paper, she was still messing with him, though he had to smile, glad that her sense of humor hadn’t changed a bit. He continued reading the letter, in which Redheart mentioned that she had arrived in Manehattan a couple days prior, and already Manehattan Medical had her busy working with a rookie surgeon that reminded her a lot of Direct.
She's a little rough around the edges. Okay, a lot rough around the edges, but I think she has a lot of potential if she would just start taking things seriously like you did. Sometimes I wish I could introduce her to you so she'd get an idea of how a doctor her age should act.
The letter closed with Redheart's best wishes and a request to hear about how things were going for him. Immediately after he finished reading, he pulled out a quill and some paper of his own, and began writing his reply.
As he wrote, Direct found himself reflecting on the time he had spent being instructed by Redheart. He remembered that first operation, how long had it been since then? It felt like it had occurred only yesterday, and yet simultaneously like it had been months since. Redheart had been an excellent teacher, keeping him on track and focused. She always seemed to know when he did and didn't understand what to do, and was very patient and specific with her directions. More than once, she had walked him through one part of an operation step-by-step, then let him exercise on his own when they reached a stage he was already familiar with.
His expression soured and his writing cut off as he reflected upon the last few weeks spent with Nurse Temperament. She’s only been a nurse for a few months now, and already she’s bossing me around like I’m the one who just got out of med school. Not a day had passed since they had started working together in which she had not berated him for one thing or another, be it showing up a few seconds late to a briefing or ‘spacing out’ while she was talking. Her shouting of “Doctor Styles!” had become a commonplace sound around the hospital, to the point that even now it was ringing out in his mind. Wait a second…
"Doctor Styles!" Direct was cut out of his reminiscing when he realized that the sound was not in his head, but that Nurse Temperament was in fact shouting from the doorway. Seeing that she at last had his attention, Nurse Temperament continued, "Come on, you're late for the briefing! Again!" Surprised, Direct looked at the clock, realizing that he had lost track of time and that it was, in fact, past time for the briefing to begin. Nurse Temperament, meanwhile, was attempting to drag Direct out the door with her. "You can finish writing to your marefreind later. Let's go!"
Once the shock of how much time he had lost wore off, Direct hastily stood from the table, grabbed his patient's folder, and took off down the hallway with Nurse Temperament.
Doctor Stables was already seated and waiting when a panting Direct and Nurse Temperament entered the briefing room. He said nothing, merely watching in silence as Direct took his seat and Nurse Temperament took her place at the front of the room. After one last check to make sure her charts were set up properly, Nurse Temperament began the meeting. "Today's first patient is one Mr. Lego Brick, a 20-year-old Earth Pony."
"Hey, I recognize that name," Direct cut in.
Doctor Stables resisted the urge to facehoof, but Nurse Temperament had no such reservations, her voice gaining an angry tone that she had used far too often since arriving at Ponyville Medical. "I should certainly hope you recognize that name, Doctor Styles, considering that it was written all over the patient file that I'm suuure you spent ample time thoroughly studying."
Direct's ears folded back at the thinly veiled accusations. "Th-that's not what I meant. I mean, isn't Lego Brick the son of Lincoln Log, the owner of the company that makes that building block toy? I thought they lived in Canterlot."
Nurse Temperament opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by Doctor Stables. "Yes, Lincoln Log does live in Canterlot. However, his son Lego Brick currently lives in Ponyville. Now, can we get back to the matter at hoof?"
Both Direct and Nurse Temperament looked sheepish at being called out, and quickly recomposed themselves. "Er, right," Nurse Temperament replied. "A-anyway, Mr. Brick has been diagnosed with a lung tumor, so our goal in this operation will be to extract it using the-"
"Powell Procedure, right," Direct cut in, hopping up from his chair. "Come on, let's go get started."
"Er, yes." Nurse Temperament confirmed, her train of thought clearly derailed for the moment. As Direct made for the door, her mind struggled to respond to the unexpected reaction. "W-wait! We haven't finished going over the operation!"
Direct turned back to his assistant, brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? I already know how to perform the Powell Procedure, so we don't have anything else to discuss and we might as well get started."
Doctor Stables watched the whole exchange with a bemused expression. Seeing Nurse Temperament flounder for a retort, he cut in. "Nurse Temperament has a point, Direct. You shouldn't be so hasty to begin the operation that you skip over important details in the briefing." Direct's expression sank at being reprimanded, but rose again as Doctor Stables continued, turning to the pink nurse with a thoughtful expression. "However, in this case, there really isn't anything else to cover. Doctor Styles has proven himself to be quite skilled at the procedure, and Mr. Brick's operation is very standard. We might as well head into the Operating Room."
"But, but-" a flustered Nurse Temperament stammered as the two doctors left the room. Once the door clicked shut behind them, she shook herself out of her stupor and quickly made her way out of the room, shaking her head in frustration.
The pony occupying the operating table was laying on his back, a patch of his light tan coat shaved away from the incision guideline on his chest. He was surprisingly lanky for an Earth Pony, lacking the usual bulk of his race. His brown mane and tail were long and slightly curly, but otherwise unremarkable. His Cutie Mark, on the other hand, was rather unusual, depicting a red brick with four studs sticking out of the top.
Direct and Doctor Stables quickly took up their positions on opposite sides of the table, staring blankly at the unconscious stallion for a few moments before Nurse Temperament finally entered the room. She quietly retrieved the cart full of medical supplies and brought it over to the table, scowling slightly at the ‘what took you so long?’ look that Direct was giving her.
Taking her place beside the young doctor, Nurse Temperament quietly cleared her throat. "Let's, uh-" she faltered for a moment, but recovered, "let's get started, shall we?" Receiving a nod from each of the doctors, she turned her attention to the patient, prompting them to do the same. "This will be a fairly standard operation, but let's be careful all the same," she remarked as she passed Direct the Antibiotic Gel to disinfect the incision area.
The operation proceeded exactly as anticipated, Direct and Nurse Temperament working carefully under the bright ceiling lights of the Operating Room. Doctor Stables watched on, impressed with how quickly the young doctor and nurse were improving. These two make quite the team, he noted with a quiet chuckle.
Direct scanned the entire surface of the lung with his ultrasound spell, opening the tumors as he found them. Once he finished scanning, he began treating the tumors: draining, excising, and removing each one individually. As he went along, Nurse Temperament remained vigilant, passing him each tool as he called for it, and keeping an eye on the various machines around the room. Before long, the lung was clear of tumors, and the wounds were sealed up in short order.
At long last, the procedure was complete. "That's the last of them," Direct commented as Nurse Temperament hoofed him the sutures. He was interrupted midway through tracing the path for the sutures by a knock on the door. With a worried frown, Doctor Stables gestured for Direct to continue as he went to check the door. Shrugging, Direct returned his focus to guiding the automatic sutures.
It wasn't until the wound had been sanitized and bandaged that Doctor Stables turned back to address them. "Excellent work today, Doctor Styles, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave the rest up to you two. There's a, um, thing that requires my attention right away." Without any further ado, the doctor took off down the hall with the nurse that had come to get him.
Doctor Styles and Nurse Temperament both stared blankly at the door as it slowly swung closed. "Huh," was Direct's eloquent response after several moments of stunned silence.
"I wonder what that was all about?" Nurse Temperament added with a shake of her head.
Direct shook his own head, pulling both of them back to reality. “Anyway, we’re done with the operation, so we might as well transfer him out,” he said, gesturing to the patient.
“Oh, right! Let me just get the gurney-” she turned around to retrieve the bed on wheels, only for it to roll over to the patient, surrounded in a blue magical field.
“Y’know, I can do some things on my own, Mom ,” the blue doctor snarked, levitating the unconscious Earth Pony onto the gurney with ease. Trotting past a bewildered Nurse Temperament, he pushed the patient out of the room and down the hall.
What? the nurse stood there, dumbfounded. ‘Mom’!? What the hay does he mean by that? she began to pace as she tried to make sense of the doctor’s statement. And ‘I can do some things on my own’... Well, maybe I am treating him a bit like a foal, but he certainly acts like one! She stomped her hoof in frustration as she mentally recounted all of his shortcomings. He’s never on time, he constantly spaces out during briefings, he doesn’t listen to a thing I say during operations, and he’s always acting like he’s better than me, just because he’s been out of med school longer! The pink nurse was fuming at this point, and punctuated her mental tirade with a swift kick at the supply cart, which sent a number of surgical implements clattering to the ground.
The external noise ringing through the otherwise silent room snapped Nurse Temperament out of her reverie, and with a sheepish glance towards the door to make sure nopony had seen, she began gathering up the spilled tools, setting them aside to be re-sanitized. With a heavy sigh, she mentally filed the doctor's words away to be contemplated later, when she didn’t have a patient to look after.
“Mr. Brick?” Nurse Temperament stood by the side of the bed currently occupied by the patient that they had operated on earlier. He had been fading in and out of consciousness for over an hour after the operation had concluded, but it looked like he was finally coming to.
“Murrgwha?” the stallion groaned, his eyes squeezing shut against the bright light of the recovery room he was in. The room was much like the ones for patients who would be staying overnight, but meant for patients who would be leaving on the same day. As such, the bedside tables were replaced with various machines, like an EKG. In addition, all of the beds were light and mounted on wheels, so that the patient could be rolled directly from the operating room to the recovery room without having to transfer them from bed to bed more than once. Both of the white walls running the length of the room were lined with evenly-spaced beds surrounded by privacy curtains hanging from the ceiling down to the tiled floor.
“Good, you’re awake.” Nurse Temperament smiled brightly. “How are you feeling?” The mostly-conscious stallion mumbled something incoherent, causing the male nurse next to her to stifle a snicker. “Good. Now then, it seems you have some visitors, so I’m going to go let them in while Nurse Pond here checks you over one last time, okay?” More incoherent mumbling followed Nurse Temperament out the door of the recovery room.
Quietly humming a cheery tune, Nurse Temperament made her way down the hall to the main lobby, where Doctor Styles was waiting with Lego Brick’s parents, explaining to them how the operation had gone, and what to expect when they were able to go see their son. Clearing her throat lightly, she called the attention of the doctor and visitors. “Your son is awake, Mr. and Mrs. Log-” The two older ponies immediately jumped to their hooves, rushing over to the pink nurse, their mouths running a mile a minute with questions about their son.
Direct couldn’t help but chuckle at the overwhelmed nurse, who was trying and failing to make sense of the barrage of words assaulting her ears. Coming to his assistant’s rescue, he interrupted the worried parents. “Rather than asking Nurse Temperament, why don’t we just go down the hall and you can ask your son himself?” This got them to calm down, and together, the four ponies made their way back down the hall to the recovery room.
Nurse Pond greeted them as they entered the room. “I was just about to come get you myself. Mr. Brick is recovering very nicely, and should be ready to leave in about two hours.” With that, he pulled aside the privacy curtain to allow Mr. and Mrs. Log to enter.
As the parents and Doctor Styles approached the bed, Nurse Temperament locked eyes with Nurse Pond. “Hey, can you cover here until he’s ready to go? We have an appointment in an hour, so we can’t stick around.”
The other nurse shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Doctor Smith’s out this week, so I’m stationed here all day. I might as well cover for you.”
Nurse Temperament let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks Tranquil. I owe you one.” Turning to her partner, who was busy fielding questions from parents and patient alike, “Doctor Styles, it’s time to go get ready for our next appointment.”
Gladly breaking out of the seemingly never-ending round of questions, the blue doctor followed his assistant back to his office. “Let’s see,” he spoke as they walked, “our appointment is with Mrs… Hooves, right?”
Nurse Temperament shook her head with a sigh. “We’re meeting with Mrs. Ditzy Doo, Doctor Styles. Her operation is tomorrow, remember?”
“Er,” Direct grimaced in embarrassment at his mistake as they arrived at his office. “I knew that. I was just, uh, testing you.”
Nurse Temperament’s facehoof was audible all the way back in the recovery room.
Author's Note
My amazing editor Legofan has done so much to make this story not only readable, but actually decent, and I felt the best way to repay him for his help was to throw a pony representation of him under the knife.
Next chapter coming soon (tm)
Read on,
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Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Five: Present Mistakes, Past Troubles
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Five: Present Mistakes, Past Troubles
Location: Ponyville Medical
"Thanks for your help, Civil," Nurse Temperament smiled sheepishly at the yellow Unicorn mare beside her. "I just can't seem to get the hang of inserting those IVs myself." The two mares were walking down a long hallway, having just finished preparing Doctor Styles's next patient, one Mrs. Ditzy Doo, for the upcoming operation.
"No problem, Angel," the mare giggled back, her dark blue mane covering her eyes for a moment as she nodded. "I know how tough it is without magic. Some friends dared me to try on a dummy back in med school. Let's just say I'm glad it was only a dummy."
The two mares shared a laugh at that. "I know it's not exactly easy, but I still feel silly calling the head anesthesiologist down just to help me put an IV in," Nurse Temperament shook her head with a smile. "Thanks again, Civil."
Rolling her eyes, the yellow mare sighed. "I told you before; it's no problem. But," the grin she was failing to hide could easily have been described as evil, "I suppose if you really feel like you need to pay me back, there's something I've been meaning to ask you." Curious, Nurse Temperament nodded her assent. "What's up with you and Doctor Styles?"
Angelic Temperament took a step back, surprised. Eyes widening, she stammered back, "Wha- what do you mean? There's nothing 'up' with us."
Sighing, Civil shook her head. "Not like that, Angel." Locking eyes with the now confused nurse, she elaborated. "It doesn't take a psychologist to realize that you really don't like the guy, and not just romantically. What I want to know is why you dislike him."
Angel's confused expression was replaced with a scowl. "Why? He's just so... So infuriating ! He's gone from acting like he has no idea what he's doing to acting like he knows everything, he hardly ever listens to anything I say, he's late almost every day, he's a complete slob-"
"And," Civil cut her off, calmly but forcefully ending Angel's tirade, "the first thing he did when he met you was mention how young you were for a nurse, right?"
Caught off-guard, the young nurse was quiet for a moment. "Well," she finally replied, "yeah. I mean, he's no more than a couple years older than me, and the first thing he does is tell me that I'm too young to be a real nurse!"
"And has he mentioned it since?" Still calm in the face of the nearly shouting pink Pegasus, Civil had to resist the urge to grin as Angel's demeanor became far more subdued.
"Er, well," Nurse Temperament floundered for a bit as she thought back over the past few weeks of working with the rookie surgeon, "no. No he hasn't." Her temper flared back up a bit, "But what difference does that make?"
"Have you ever considered, Angel," Civil pressed her side against Angel's, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned in closer, "that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mean it? He is a stallion, after all. They have a tendency of saying the first thing that pops into their heads without thinking." Both mares shared a laugh at that.
"Alright," Angel conceded with a smile, which the yellow Unicorn was happy to return, "you win. Maybe I was being a bit unfair, holding that against him like that."
"And..?" the yellow Unicorn pressed, bumping her flank against Angel's, looking at her expectantly. "What are you going to tell him?"
Angel's smile faltered, dropping into a frown of uncertainty. "I'll give him another chance, Civil. We'll see if he deserves an apology."
Sighing, the anesthesiologist shook her head and allowed a more normal distance to come between them. "I suppose that's the best I'm getting for now, huh?" Then, with a light smirk, "Just try not to fall in love with him too quickly." With that, she abruptly turned into an intersecting hallway, leaving a sputtering and blushing Nurse Temperament in her wake.
Sitting at his paper-covered desk, Direct boredly flipped through the pages of his next patient’s records, not even really skimming the information as he waited for his assistant to return from prepping the patient. Why are there so many pages? he pondered. It's not like these operations are all that complex. His mind wandered through various topics, like when Redheart would receive the letter he had sent off that morning on his way to work, before it eventually settled on his plans for that night, wondering if his special guests would be on time.
After what felt like hours to the bored doctor, but was really only thirty minutes, Nurse Temperament finally entered the room, a faint blush visible on her cheeks, not that he noticed. "We're ready, Doctor," she said, gesturing him to follow.
Absentmindedly tossing the report onto his desk, the doctor rose and followed his assistant down the hall to the briefing room. Along the way, they passed by a number of other nurses hurrying about, carrying messages or running for supplies, among other things. Each wore a standard nurse's cap, but beyond that there was no uniform.
After a couple minutes of walking, they arrived at the very familiar briefing room. The charts had been set up in advance, so Nurse Temperament began the briefing as soon as Doctor Styles was seated. "Since Doctor Stables is out of town," she began, "I'll be briefing you on today's operation."
You'd be briefing me even if he was here , Doctor Styles rolled his eyes, nodding for her to continue.
"Our next patient is Ditzy Doo, a thirty year old Pegasus mare who came in a couple of months ago experiencing abdominal pain. Tests revealed a cluster of small tumors in her lower intestines, and subsequent checks have shown them growing larger. After consulting with her regular physician, it was decided to remove them as soon as possible, before they start causing further problems. We'll be using the Powell Procedure for this operation-"
Waving a hoof, Doctor Styles cut Nurse Temperament off. "I know the procedure; I've done this plenty of times." Surprised at the interruption, Nurse Temperament was silent as he stood from the table and headed for the door. "Come on, let's go get started."
Caught off-guard, Nurse Temperament finally regained her wits when the door closed behind the departing doctor. "W-wait!" She stammered out. "Doctor Styles!" With that, she rushed out the door after him, leaving the briefing room empty save for a number of charts and the patient's records, all of which he had ignored.
The patient, a blonde-maned, grey Pegasus mare, laid unconscious on her left side on the operating table. A patch of her coat had been shaved away from her lower right abdomen, and an incision guideline had been traced right through the middle of the patch of bare skin.
Doctor Styles stood by the operating table as Nurse Temperament entered the room, waiting for his assistant to arrive so they could begin. Seeing the doctor already set up to start, Nurse Temperament muffled an annoyed groan and gave up on her hopes of dragging him back to the briefing room. Reluctantly, she grabbed her cart and moved to his side. Well , she reasoned with herself as she prepared herself for the operation, even if he didn't read the file all the way through, at least I did. As long as I'm watching out for any indication of trouble, I can stop him from screwing this up too badly . She nodded to herself, confident in her plan.
Once Nurse Temperament was ready, Direct turned back to the patient on the table. "Starting the operation," he said simply as she passed him the Antibiotic Gel, which he used to sanitize the area around the incision guideline. He then traded the vial of Gel for a scalpel and made the opening incision.
"Oh my!" Nurse Temperament exclaimed, raising a hoof to cover her gasp as she got her first look at the swollen intestines. "The entire intestinal membrane is inflamed!" But the tests indicated that only the lower membrane was inflamed... What happened!?
Calmly, Direct glanced over the heavily inflamed organ. "This isn't that unusual of a symptom," he shrugged. "Pass me the anti-inflammatory and I'll take care of it."
Nurse Temperament hoofed over a shiny syringe and a vial of anti-inflammatory medicine. Direct filled the syringe with the medicine, and injected it into one of the most heavily inflamed areas. Immediately, the swelling went down. "It's working," Nurse Temperament confirmed. "Proceed as normal, I guess..." Even with that problem overcome, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Maybe it's just what Civil said earlier that's getting to me, she reasoned.
Once the worst of the inflammation was gone, the pair moved to searching for the tumors. Doctor Styles used his Ultrasound spell to search the entire length of the intestines, opening the tumors up with a scalpel as he found them. Before long, he had half a dozen tumors leaking cytoplasm onto the surface of the organ. "That seems to be all of them," he noted. "Let's start draining the cytoplasm so I can remove these things already."
Nurse Temperament passed Direct the drain, carefully watching as he worked. He really has gotten better, she had to admit. His attitude, on the other hoof ... She couldn't help but wonder about the sudden change that had overtaken the rookie doctor over the past few weeks as the operation continued, absentmindedly giving him tools as he requested them. One successful operation that I didn’t guide him through and suddenly he thinks he doesn’t even need my help! Nurse Temperament found herself staring at the relaxed, almost bored expression on the doctor's face as he excised another tumor. It's like he isn't taking this - or me - seriously anymore!
"Looks like we're done here." Direct's simple declaration shook Nurse Temperament out of her reverie, causing her to realize that she had only barely been paying attention.
Stupid, stupid... After all the times you've gotten mad at him for not paying attention... she mentally berated herself as she looked over the patient's now-tumorless intestines and checked the medical instruments around the room. "Don't celebrate just yet, Doctor," she spoke up, watching as a yellow number slowly ticked down on a screen in front of her. 35. 34. 33. "her vitals still haven't stabilized yet."
Not even looking at his assistant, Direct waved her comment off. "Vitals don't usually stabilize right away, especially not after an operation like this." Turning towards her and seeing the genuine worry on her face, he rolled his eyes. "But if you insist…” The doctor sighed in defeat. Clearly, he would not be done as quickly as he had hoped. “What do you suggest we do, Nurse Temperament?"
Biting her lip in concern, the pink nurse returned to the table. "Well," she faltered, a little unsure, "first of all, we should inject some Stabilizer to help bring her vitals back up."
And here I thought I was going to get to take a nap before dinner... Direct had to stop himself from sighing. But she is right, some inner part of him whispered. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Direct grabbed a syringe with his magic, filling it with the green Stabilizer fluid.
Nurse Temperament kept an eye on the monitor as he injected the serum, watching the yellow number rise from the mid twenties up to almost forty. Another injection brought the number above fifty, at which point it turned from yellow to green. "That should be enough," she nodded, watching the number for a moment longer. It was still ticking down, but at a much slower rate. "Let's scan the area once more though, just to be safe."
Wordlessly, Direct began the Ultrasound spell. Nurse Temperament watched as he slowly scanned the entire intestinal membrane, showing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. There's nothing here... she thought. So why do I have this feeling that we're forgetting something?
"Nothing here," Doctor Styles stated as he finished searching the area. "Anything else you wanted to check?"
Nurse Temperament cast her mind back to the notes from the patient's tests that had been included in the file, but couldn't remember anything specific. If only I'd remembered to bring the file with me... she thought with a frustrated snort. "No, I guess not..."
"Great. Pass me the sutures and let's wrap this up; I've got a dinner reservation to make."
Direct Styles absentmindedly tapped his hoof on the table as he waited. He was dressed in a black tux and seated at a small table-for-three in the Gilded Lily, the fanciest restaurant in Ponyville. He had arrived just in time for his reservation, only to find that his guests had not yet arrived. At first, he had patiently awaited their arrival, assuming that some uncontrollable factor had prevented them from showing up on time. As the minutes ticked by, however, he was slowly losing hope. His gaze flicked from the two empty chairs in front of him, to the front door of the restaurant, to the clock on the wall, and back again. An hour. They were a whole hour late, and still no sign of them.
A waitress stopped by to refill his glass of water, discreetly passing him a look of pity. She had seen far too many young mares and stallions sit alone at a table for hours, blindly hoping that the next pony to walk through the front door would be their date.
Direct, however, wasn't waiting for a date. No, instead, he was waiting for his parents, whom he had invited to come see where he was now, and what he had done with the life they had told him would never work out. Despite the almost hostile terms on which he'd left them, he was trying to offer them a proverbial olive branch. Trying to, perhaps, even get back on good terms with the ponies who had given him life.
And they turned their noses up at it, he thought with a sudden venom that surprised even him, just like the Canterlot snobs they are. While the pure hate that he felt in his own thoughts startled him, it at the same time felt so right . They'd never even bothered to reply to his invitation, he reminded himself. They'd probably thrown it away without reading it. He'd set aside every single bit he could spare for a month to afford this reservation, and they'd blown him off! His own parents!
His anger vanished in an instant, replaced with despair as he hung his head. Flashes of the last time he had been in his parents' home came back to him as he sat alone.
Direct stood before his father, a blue Unicorn with a red mane, and his mother, a white Unicorn with a green mane. Both wore fancy Canterlot clothing and gazed at him in a mixture of shock and disgust as he told them his plans.
" Medical School!?" His father shouted halfway through Direct's speech, looking absolutely livid. "You want to go to Medical School!?"
Nervous, but determined, Direct nodded. "Yes. I don't know what my Cutie Mark means," he indicated the ambiguous pentagram on his flank, "but I know that I got it while helping other ponies, and what better way to help ponies than to be a doctor, right?"
His father's face was turning as red as his mane. He looked like he was about to explode, but his mother intervened by putting a hoof over her husband’s chest. Ever the graceful one, though still somewhat angry, she simply whispered, "Are you sure this is what you want, Direct?"
Almost as quietly, Direct replied. "Yes, Mom. I'm sure." He knew that neither of his parents had a high opinion of doctors, though he himself had no idea why, and he was relieved at how seemingly well his mother was taking the news-
"Then you are no son of mine."
The statement came so quietly, so gently, that Direct was still processing exactly what had been said when his mother – no, not his mother anymore, just Directed Shots – closed her eyes in finality. Direct couldn’t find any words to say, simply gaping at Directed Shots as she silently exited the room. She didn’t look back even once. A silent moment passed before his father – not his father anymore either, just Modern Styles – followed his wife's example and left the room, pausing only to tell the disowned Direct that he had two hours to be out of the house for good.
Sitting there, Direct reflected on what had just happened, his gaze trailing to the floor. In an instant, he had lost both his mother and father, simply because he wanted to be a doctor. In one fell swoop, he was disowned and left to fend for himself, with no one to truly guide him. For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. And he didn’t like it one bit. Of course, the tears that were leaking from his eyes didn’t help the situation.
The waitress was back, nudging him on the shoulder and telling him that he had to leave, that it was closing time, and that she was very sorry that his guests had not arrived. The tears in his eyes belied his stoic expression as he rose and walked out the door. He didn't really pay attention to where he was going, he just let his hooves carry him back to his apartment as his mind roamed. Again and again, his mother's parting statement rang through his head. You are no son of mine, her gentle voice told him over and over again as he wandered the dark streets of Ponyville.
That memory would forever haunt him. It was the moment when his parents' love was severed, and he was thrown out like mere trash. Perhaps, he'd occasionally wondered to himself when visions of his past kept him awake at night, they never loved me in the first place. Maybe I was simply imagining that they cared about me, and I was really just an annoyance to them . He didn’t know which was worse: having all of the love he’d had suddenly torn away, or knowing that all of that love had always been false.
Eventually, he found himself approaching his apartment. Standing in front of it, head whipping about in apparent desperation, was a mare that he recognized from the hospital. Doctor... Duty, he was pretty sure.
Upon spotting Direct, the blue-maned, yellow Unicorn ran up to him, panting. "Doctor Styles!" she exclaimed far too loud for the time of night that it was. "I've been looking all over for you! Come on, you're needed back at the hospital!" Without any further explanation, she began dragging him along as she ran back to Ponyville Medical.
Nurse Temperament was waiting for them when they arrived at the hospital. Her voice was stern as she explained the situation to Direct. Mrs. Doo, his patient from earlier that day, was currently in the O.R. for emergency surgery. About an hour ago, she had undergone sudden cardiac arrest when a large tumor metastasized on her heart. A quick test revealed a cluster of tumors behind her lungs, which it was later confirmed had in fact been noted in the operation file from earlier that day. At the moment, the night shift doctors were hard at work fixing his mistake.
Direct stared silently at the ground as his assistant explained, all of his confidence from earlier that day gone. If his flashback at the restaurant earlier had shaken him, this news completely broke him. Between his overconfidence and his hurry to be done with the operation, he had nearly allowed his patient to die. An innocent mare had nearly died due to his carelessness! He had failed in one of the most basic duties of his position. Just like he said I would...
Two hours later, Direct Styles trotted down the front hall of what had been his home. He held his head high despite the tears still leaking from his reddened eyes, willing himself not to break down. A single suitcase, held in his magic, contained all of his belongings that he would be bringing with him into his new life.
As he passed by the living room on his way to the front door, Modern Styles called out from his high-backed chair in front of the fireplace. "You'll find nothing but failure out that door," he stated, not once looking up from the paper he was reading. The sentence made Direct freeze for a moment, and for the first time in his life, he felt, rather than sorrow, loathing towards his father. What did he know? He was kicking Direct out over some stupid, unexplained prejudice, and yet he had the gall to speak as though he already knew what would happen down the line!
Refusing to acknowledge either Modern's words or the anger bubbling up within him, Direct briskly made for the exit. He was determined now more than ever to make his own life, and to prove that he didn't need his former parents' approval. With a heavy scowl, Direct shoved open the front door and left his old home.
Nothing but failure , the words haunted him still. That's all I am, Direct thought as he sat alone on his bed in his small apartment, staring at the floor. Failed as a son, failed as a doctor; I’m just a failure.
Author's Note
Another one already?
Yeah, um, don’t expect this frequency of updates, like, ever. I kinda happened to have this one done before editing on the last one was finished, so yeah.
An extra shoutout to Superdale33 for his help with this chapter. He’s a great author who helped a lot of this flow much more smoothly than it originally did, and he definitely deserves your attention.
Now, I do have a question for all of you, my readers. I referenced Direct’s Cutie Mark and how they don’t really know exactly what it means. Would you guys be interested if I were to include a bonus chapter of some kind with Styles’s Cutie Mark story? As it is, there isn’t really a plan to tell the full story anywhere, but I noticed a couple of people who seemed curious about it, so I figured I’d ask.
As always, thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Six: Crash
Location: Ponyville Medical
“Ah, Doctor Styles, come in.” Doctor Healing, Director of Ponyville Medical, sat behind his desk in his large, well-furnished office. In keeping with his place as ‘everypony’s grandpa,’ his office looked more like a living room than a place of business. Comfortable chairs and a sofa sat along the walls, and a grandfather clock ticked off to one side. His desk was, like the pony himself, large but not imposing. The dark mahogany shone like new, despite its clear signs of wear.
Direct nervously took his place in the chair placed directly across the desk from the Director. There were a few moments of silence as Doctor Healing studied him, almost as if he were expecting him to start blurting out excuses. When nothing was forthcoming, the Director stared back down at the papers in front of him. "I'm sure you're aware of why I called you here today, Doctor Styles." He glanced expectantly at the young doctor, who responded with a nod.
"Your negligence in Mrs. Doo's operation yesterday nearly cost her her life, though I'm sure you're already well aware of that." Looking back up from his papers, Doctor Healing gazed intently at Doctor Styles. "What I want to talk about, Direct, is not what happened, but why . You’ve been nothing short of excellent in your work ever since you started learning under Nurse Redheart, and even despite your… less than perfect relationship with your partner, Doctor Stables tells me that, aside from a hiccup or two, your record is flawless.” The former surgeon gestured to a stack of reports on the desk beside him.
Doctor Styles chuckled nervously, a bit embarrassed at how he and Nurse Temperament had been getting along. Or rather, had not been getting along. “You uh... you heard about that, huh?”
The elder doctor’s eyes practically twinkled as he cracked a smile. “My boy, sometimes it can be a little hard to not hear the two of you, even at my age!” As Direct blushed in embarrassment, the Director leaned across the table a bit and added “Besides, I was there when it all started, remember?”
“Oh... yeah, you were,” he replied after a moment's thought.
The Director allowed himself another small chuckle before returning to the matter at hoof. “Coworkers aside, Direct, your performance in the Operating Room has been spectacular.”
“Until yesterday,” Direct pointed out.
“Until yesterday,” Director Healing agreed with a nod. “I’m sure you can understand why this would concern me, Direct: one of the most promising young surgeons in Equestria nearly loses a patient because he suddenly forgot to check the patient’s vitals before ending the operation.” Direct winced at that. Nurse Temperament had pointed out that the vitals weren’t stabilizing, but he had brushed off her concerns in favor of finishing the operation, all so he could impress the parents that weren’t even coming in the first place. Hindsight reared its ugly head and the blue Unicorn’s ears drooped as he realized he had not only foolishly put a mare’s life in danger, but had ultimately done so for nothing.
Direct’s shift in demeanor did not pass undetected by the Director, who feared he may have damaged the young doctor’s fragile confidence. “Direct, I’m not mad at you, I just want to underst-” he began, but was cut off by a commotion coming from the other side of the office door.
“Miss Temperament, you can’t go in there!” shouted a voice that Direct placed as the Director’s secretary just before the door flew open. As the voice had indicated, Nurse Temperament stood in the doorway, looking very upset. Behind her, the Unicorn secretary shook her head helplessly as the agitated Pegasus stomped into the room.
“Miss Temperament, what is the meaning of-”
“Please excuse my interruption, Director,” she said in a deceptively calm tone, not so much as sparing a glance at the elder surgeon, instead glaring angrily at Direct, “but I need to say something.”
Eyeing the young nurse warily, he nevertheless nodded his assent. “What is it?”
Her body relaxed a bit, her attention turning to the director. “It’s about the careless attitude that Mr. Styles displayed during the operation yesterday. I’m confident that he never so much as opened the patient’s file prior to the operation; otherwise he would have known about the patient’s test results and seen the warnings from the lab. Furthermore, he ignored my briefing and proceeded with the operation with nothing more than a basic understanding of the procedure. I repeatedly expressed my concerns about the patient during the operation, but he brushed me off, citing an 'important reservation' that he had to make. He rushed out the door practically the moment he finished the operation, leaving me to clean up and move the patient to Recovery on my own. What kind of doctor does that!?" Turning at last to face the target of her frustration, Nurse Temperament raised her voice. "Do you even care about this job and what it means? You certainly don't act like it! Why did you even become a doctor in the first place!?"
Director Healing's expression remained unchanged throughout the nurse's laundry list of complaints. When she finally finished, the aged doctor leaned back in his chair, tapping his hooves together. "Thank you, Miss Temperament. Please wait outside my office; I'd like to speak with you when I'm finished with Direct." The young surgeon, who had been silent during his partner's tirade, winced as he heard the door close behind her.
Silence reigned over the room for several long moments as Styles's head hung. At long last, Revered Healing spoke in a gentle voice. "Direct, I can tell that this whole incident has had an effect on you. I want you to take the next few days off, try to get yourself back on track." Checking to be sure the door was closed, the Director stood and slipped around his desk to put a hoof on the Unicorn's shoulder. "Everypony makes mistakes sometimes, but we can't allow those mistakes to drag us into making more. Believe me, son, the worst thing you can do is refuse to move forward."
The office fell silent once more, and remained that way until the elderly stallion moved back around his desk. Soft hoofsteps echoed through the air as Direct Styles took his leave, neither looking up nor saying a word as he made his way out of the hospital and back to his apartment.
Why had he been so eager to abandon his home all those years ago? He could have just stayed there and gone into fashion and art critiquing like his parents had wanted. His family certainly had the connections to at least get him going. Even if he hated every moment of it, at least he wouldn't be needlessly endangering other ponies' lives.
So why did I leave? The answer was simple.
I had a plan. It all seemed so easy, back then: Go to med school, get my degree, then spend the rest of my time saving ponies' lives. After all, it's what I'm good at... right? Isn't that my special talent? One glance at the mark on his flank reminded him of the real truth; the nondescript pentagram left him as clueless as it always had. I thought it was. It was a guess more than anything else. A guess and a whole lot of wishful thinking. Direct Styles hung his head with a defeated sigh.
I don't know what my Mark means. I never did. I have no idea what my "special talent" really is. I don't even know if I have one, really. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. He wasn't even sure if he could ever go back to the hospital after that...
Do you even care about this job and what it means?
Why did you even become a doctor in the first place!?
He winced as Nurse Temperament's words rang through his mind once more. I only cared about what it meant to me, he mentally answered. It was never about helping ponies. It was about proving a point: proving to Dad that I could succeed where he promised I'd fail. That's why I became a doctor; getting this job was my ultimate justification. The whole reason I left home in Canterlot was to become a doctor, so that's all that being a doctor meant to me. That's all it's ever meant to me.
"Wow Direct, should I call the exterminator?"
The blue stallion jumped as he suddenly heard a voice right beside him. The small road on the outskirts of Ponyville was usually completely abandoned, making it the perfect place for the troubled doctor to take a late afternoon walk to clear his head. He had been lost in his thoughts then, when he found himself greeted rather strangely by a pair of bright blue eyes in the midst of an overwhelming wall of pink. "Gah! Pinkie? Exterminator? What the hay?" He backpedaled and tried to make sense of what she was talking about, but found no success with either as he tripped and landed in a confused heap.
The pink mare gave him a huge, cheesy smile. "Why, because something's bugging you, of course!" She hopped closer to the scrambling stallion and offered a hoof to help him up. "I could feel your frowny-face all the way from Sugarcube Corner, and as the Element of Laughter you know I can't allow that!" Pulling him up and leading him over to a nearby bench, Pinkie Pie sat down with Direct as her bubbly expression became solemn, though she still managed to radiate cheerfulness. "Now tell Auntie Pinkie your troubles."
As reluctant as he was to talk about what he was feeling, Direct was struck with how sincere the normally childish pony was being. Before he even realized it, he was already explaining everything; beginning with his parents disowning him all the way to the events of the night before and his meeting with the Director that morning. It wasn't long into his story that he felt tears begin to flow; the wound of his parents' rejection felt as fresh as the day he'd left. Pinkie was silent the entire time, offering a shoulder to cry on as he recounted his many failings. At times he was simply unable to continue, but the mare's comforting hoof gave him the strength to carry on with his story until he reached the end, sharing at last the conclusions he had made earlier that day.
"I can't be a doctor anymore, Pinkie," he said, his red, puffy eyes watching the sky turn brilliant shades of pink, purple and orange with the setting sun. "I can't keep pretending that I'm trying to help ponies when that's never been it. I'm just selfishly putting others at risk to prove a pointless point."
After another few moments of silence, Pinkie finally replied. "You know, I may not be the chocolate-chippiest cookie in the batch, but even I can tell that's just silly." At Direct's blank stare, she gave a soft smile and elaborated. "If you really only care about yourself instead of helping ponies, then why are you so upset about what happened? Being scared of hurting somepony doesn't sound very selfish to me."
As much as a part of Direct wanted to accept her reassurances, he knew the party pony just didn't understand. "You don't get it. I'm doing more harm than good, and it's all because of some wishful thinking that I was meant to help ponies. The only thing I'm 'meant' to do is wonder what the hay my Cutie Mark is supposed to mean!" He was nearly shouting by then, but his companion remained as unfazed as she had been the entire time. That's seriously weird. Since when is Pinkie so calm?
No sooner had he thought this, of course, than Pinkie began to twitch strangely. Parts of her body spasmed in a seemingly random pattern for a couple of seconds before culminating in a full-body shudder. "Woah," she breathed as the shaking stopped. "This one's gonna be a doozy."
"What happened?" With the onset of Pinkie's innate early-warning system, his focus shifted to the more pressing matter at hoof. "Er, what will happen?"
"No time to explain," Pinkie started, jumping up from the bench. "Just do exactly as I say and everything will be alright.
"Now I need you to stand right here and look at that tree over there." Direct complied, and as soon as his eyes locked onto the tree in question, he felt a rush of wind as Pinkie took off. "Greatnowdon'tmoveI'llberightback!"
The stallion looked back just in time to see a Pinkie-shaped cloud of dust dissipate, then returned to his impromptu staring match with the large, sturdy oak tree across the street.
I wonder what's going to happen this time? he mused as he waited. He'd seen the Pinkie Sense in action before, and had learned to just take Pinkie's word for it on matters of the immediate future. Maybe that Ursa Minor found its way back to town? He'd heard about that incident a number of times, though he'd still been in med school when it happened. Come to think of it, it was right about that time that property values in Ponyville began to drop. That's why I chose to move here, after all...
He continued to wonder on the cause of Pinkie's Sense going off for several moments, ideas ranging from another Parasprite Invasion to the re-return of Discord passed through his mind until a loud, long sound that could only be called a whoop rang through the air. Refocusing his attention on the world around him, Direct quickly found its source.
An orange Pegasus filly on a blue scooter came zooming down the road at high speed, laughing giddily as two more fillies tried and failed to keep up, cheering her on. She was practically a blur as she approached Direct, going much faster than she should have been able to. Just before she passed him, however, the scooter suddenly lurched, throwing the ecstatic filly into both the air and a brief state of terror for a matter of seconds. The momentum launched her off the road and into the trunk of the tree Pinkie had instructed Direct to watch with a sickening crunch.
By the time his brain restarted, the other two fillies were already nearing where their friend lay crumpled under the tree. He couldn't make out anything specific from the distance he was at, but something was clearly wrong; he was pretty sure that the pony body wasn't supposed to look like that. Ponies were resilient, foals much more so, but she'd been going very fast when she hit that tree...
Direct began to panic, but then he remembered; insecurities or no, he had still gone through years of medical schooling, and right now the things he had learned there could mean the difference between this filly living and dying. Will you let her die? he asked himself. After all, you're just a selfish foal who only cares about proving himself to his parents, right?
To Tartarus with that, he answered as he ran towards the small gathering of fillies. No way am I letting a foal die like that. Grim determination quickened his steps and he reached the tree in no time. "Stand back!" he called, seeing the fillies rushing to their friend. "Touching her might just make things worse."
An up-close view of the Pegasus's broken body confirmed that suspicion. Her limbs were twisted in all the wrong ways and her deflated chest pointed to broken or possibly collapsed ribs. What was worse, the filly didn't seem to be breathing. "Scootaloo!" one of the other fillies, a yellow Earth Pony wearing a red mane-bow was shouting, trying to get her friend to wake up.
Meanwhile, the white-coated Unicorn filly gazed up at Direct, her fear for her friend written plainly across her face. "Can you help her?" she asked simply.
Can I? he had to wonder. He had no supplies, and even if he did, the side of the road was hardly the ideal place for such a complicated surgery. Apart from that, though he still wasn't sure he was really cut out to be a doctor. What if his 'helping,' just like the fillies' attempts to shake their friend awake, only made it worse?
Just then, he heard the distant wail of an ambulance siren. It was coming their way. Direct smiled, and put a hoof on the Unicorn filly's shoulder. "Kid, your friend's gonna be just fine."
The ambulance pulled up moments later, three ponies in EMT gear and one tired-looking Pinkie Pie hopping out before the carriage had stopped moving. Immediately the Emergency Technicians began to assess the orange filly's condition while the Unicorn among them carefully transferred her to a stretcher. Pinkie, for her part, just smiled and waved at Direct before gathering the other two fillies together, presumably to offer comfort and reassurance.
Once the Unicorn levitating the broken filly finally managed to get her settled on the stretcher, she turned to face Direct, who was surprised to recognize Doctor Civil Duty, Ponyville Medical's head anesthesiologist and most certainly not one of the EMTs. She seemed equally surprised to see him. "Doctor Styles?"
"Doctor Duty? When did you join the EMT crew?" he halfheartedly joked.
"I wish my change of position were that simple," the mare grumbled. "Thank Celestia you're here, Direct. We need you to come with us."
"What? Why?" he was genuinely confused. Had she not heard that he'd been 'relieved' for the next few days?
"No time to explain, just get in!" the anesthesiologist-turned-first-responder shouted, brooking no argument as the other two EMTs hopped back into the carriage, preparing a large, secure table to hold the patient in place during the ride. Clambering in himself, he lent his magic to help levitate the orange filly onto the table, where the EMTs began strapping the stretcher into place and hooking up some minor life support systems to help their charge survive the journey.
"Hyah!" Doctor Duty shouted out when the last strap was secure, signalling the two stallions pulling the cart to start moving. The siren resumed as the ambulance sped back in the direction of Ponyville Medical.
With nothing left but a short wait, Direct spoke up again. "Mind telling me why you need me so badly?"
The other three ponies shared a grim look before Doctor Duty replied. "Somepony messed something up really bad, Direct. It wasn't until Miss Pie showed up that we realized that almost nopony was left in the entire hospital."
"WHAT!?"
The three ponies in EMT gear nodded. "For some reason, it looks like almost the entire hospital staff has the night off. Took me a few minutes just to find these two and somepony to pull the ambulance. What's worse, we couldn't find a single surgeon in the building. Just a few nurses, the night receptionist, and me."
"So what you're saying is..." Direct began, knowing now why he had been brought along.
Civil Duty laid a hoof on Direct's shoulder. "Yes, Direct. I know what happened last night, but we need you to operate." She gestured towards the unconscious filly. "It's her only chance."
The doubts he had been feeling since the day before came back, threatening to drown him in a tidal wave of fear. He almost refused, so nearly succumbed to the crushing doubts that had consumed him. Then, he remembered that Unicorn foal, and the sight of her hope-filled eyes. She believed, without knowing a thing about him, that he could help. That feeling was enough to hold all of the fears and doubts from the past twenty-four hours at bay. For the first time in he-didn't-know-how-long, he felt that same purpose, that same drive to help that had led him to leave his parents' home and go to medical school. This is why I became a doctor, he remembered. This is what it's all about. Being the reason for that hope.
Author's Note
Man, writing depression sucks. Sorry for the delay everyone (as though you haven't already come to expect it). ~~I've heard tell that feedback inspires creativity in writers. Anyone want to help test that theory?~~
This is one of those chapters that turned out very differently from my original plan, but as always when talking about me that's a good thing. My plan for this chapter was so short and weak, but I kept getting hit with ideas as I wrote and wound up with something much longer and (hopefully) better.
Anyway, if any of you Trauma Center fans (do any of you who read this actually know anything about the game?) are looking for something else to read while you wait for my lazy rear to produce something, you might consider checking out this story . It hasn't updated in longer than mine, but it's a rather well-done combination of MLP with Trauma Team. Unlike mine which really follows the original story, this guy branched off and took some great liberties with each source, which I think pay off in making it unique. Plus, the author is a very cool dude
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Seven: A Healing Touch
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Seven: A Healing Touch
Location: Ponyville Medical
Direct hastily stuffed his limbs into his set of surgical scrubs, using magic to pull the sanitized clothing up around his body and tie it off. Doctor Duty and the nurses were getting the filly set up in the Emergency Room, and he needed to be ready to operate as soon as possible. He had wanted to skip the sanitation to start the operation sooner, but Civil had insisted; this operation would be too delicate to jeopardize the patient's safety just for the sake of a few seconds. So here he was, trying to get properly prepared as quickly as possible.
Doubts oozed into his thoughts like blood from a wound, momentarily giving him pause. There's nopony here to fix it if I mess up this time , he recalled grimly. Quickly, he resumed his preparations. All the more reason to stay focused; I can't let anything distract me.
When Direct entered Emergency Room 3 less than a minute later, he was greeted with a scene of minor chaos. The heart monitor wailed out a steady, high-pitched note as the red vitals count number dropped ever so slowly.
Two nurses rushed around the room frantically, trying to find any way to revive the patient, while the third was reared up on her hind hooves, pink wings providing balance as she attempted chest compressions. On the other side of the table was Doctor Duty, her horn sparking faintly as she charged up a defibrillator spell. "Clear!" she shouted, and the nurse stopped compressions to allow her to touch her horn to the patient's chest, causing the filly's body to twitch slightly but not stopping the monitor's screeching. Immediately the nurse began compressions again, frantically trying to get a pulse.
Panic creeped into him at the scene, but he pushed it aside for the moment; he couldn't afford to doubt, not after he'd been given a second chance. He paused in the doorway, closing his eyes and remembering that Unicorn filly. The hope in her eyes, the sincerity of her question as she'd asked if he could help. I promised her, he remembered. I promised her that her friend would be okay. He opened his eyes again, his thoughts clearer, and with determination beginning to replace his earlier trepidation. Alright, the patient is undergoing cardiac arrest, so the first priority is getting a heartbeat. Thus affirmed, he started towards the table.
He charged up a defibrillator spell of his own as he approached, electrical energy running up and down his horn. As experienced as Doctor Duty was, at the end of the day she was an anesthesiologist; she'd learned the spell in med school but her classes would have focused on other spells and techniques. Direct, on the other hoof, had had the defibrillator spell drilled into his mind to the point that he was seeing the spell matrix whenever he closed his eyes. Adjust down for age, then double power for Pegasi.. .
He quickly strode the rest of the way up to the table, tapping the pink nurse on the shoulder. She jumped and nearly lost her balance, stepping aside in shock at the sight of the doctor. "Doctor Styles?" her voice wavered as she spoke.
Now that he was closer Direct could see tears shining on her face and in her reddening eyes. Clearly she wasn't taking her failure to resuscitate the filly very well. He shook as he recognized the distressed nurse as Nurse Temperament. Seeing her so upset now when he had last seen her furious nearly broke his focus, and he quickly turned and touched his horn to the filly's chest just over her heart.
A jolt of electrical energy coursed through the broken body, but the heart monitor continued its high-pitched wail. No! he must have lost control of the spell at the last second. The spell's failsafe prevented it from overcharging and harming the patient, but it did nothing to help restore a heartbeat. I'll have to try again.
Focus. Concentrate on the patient. Nothing else matters. Lightning arced across his horn again and time itself seemed to stand with bated breath for one infinitesimal moment as he touched it to the filly's chest for the second time.
Everypony fell silent as the heart monitor's whining cut out for a fraction of a second. Direct nearly had his own heart attack in the moment they waited before a beep resounded through the room, followed quickly by more. They had a pulse. The vitals number jumped up a bit but resumed falling almost immediately. They weren't out of the woods yet, not by any stretch of the imagination.
Everypony in the room released a deep breath. "You did it, Doctor Styles," muttered Doctor Duty, her smoking horn a testament to the number of times she had attempted the spell herself. Beside her, Nurse Temperament's gaze silently flickered between Direct and the patient.
"I did an it, sure, but by the look of things we have a lot more 'its' to go," the stallion replied with his own sigh of relief. He began examining the Pegasus filly, once again noting all four of her broken limbs and a clearly collapsed ribcage. "What do we know about the patient's condition?"
"Not much beyond the obvious, unfortunately," one of the EMT nurses standing by the heart monitor replied, shaking her head. "Lots of broken bones and probably internal hemorrhaging, if cardiac arrest is anything to judge by."
"Going in blind, then. Nurse Temperament, pass me the Antibiotic Gel so we can get started." He faltered after a moment when his partner didn't respond. Glancing to the side he saw the pink mare silently staring at the patient as the heart monitor beeped a fast, staccato rhythm. Now that he was paying attention, he could see yet-unshed tears welling in her eyes and hear her rapid, shallow breaths. "Nurse Temperament..?"
"Get to work, Direct," Doctor Duty commanded as she rounded the operating table. She quickly approached the trembling nurse, putting a hoof on her shoulder. Direct began to object as the elder Unicorn began to gently push his assistant out of the room, but she gave him a pointed look and gestured towards their young patient. "I'll take care of this problem, you deal with that one."
"R-right," Direct mumbled as he hastily turned back to the operating table, accepting a vial of Gel from one of the EMTs who had stepped forward to act as his assistant. "Okay, we've got a lot to do, so let's get started." The EMT, an older, green-coated stallion, nodded as the doctor quickly spread the gel down the middle of the filly's deflated chest. "Scalpel." He was passed the indicated tool in short order, and made an incision almost down the full length of the patient's chest.
Direct flinched as the opening revealed a number of shattered bones embedded in mangled organs. Their view of the grisly scene was completely unblocked - as they had assumed, almost the entirety of the patient's ribcage had been shattered. The EMT unfazedly remarked, "Well, ain't she one lucky filly?" At Direct's shocked look, he elaborated, "Lucky ta be alive, that is. Only times Ah ever seen somepony this bad were when we called th' morticians soon's we arrived."
Direct grimaced. "That won't be happening this time." Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he eyed the whole mess again and called for a pair of forceps. Taking them in his magical grip, he began carefully extracting the shards of shattered bone that had pierced the filly's heart, placing them on a sanitized tray. "We'll need to get these out of the way for now," he explained to his temporary assistant. "We might be able to fix the ribs later, but for now we should focus on the organs, starting with her heart."
The vital organ's erratic beating made removing the shards of bone difficult, and Direct feared that they may be causing even more damage on the way out. Still, he persevered, knowing that it was the only way the filly would ever recover. He alternated constantly between the forceps and sutures, trying to patch the holes that had been pierced into the filly's fragile heart.
"That takes care of the worst of it," he remarked several minutes later, as the automatic sutures tied the last hole shut. He wiped the sweat from his brow as the EMT stallion injected a syringe-full of Stabilizer. "Her pericardium's holding together, and none of those fragments went deep enough to do any serious damage."
"That's one organ down, 'nother half-dozen ta go," his temporary assistant pointed out, setting the syringe aside for re-sterilization and prepping the forceps once more.
He was right, of course, and the heart alone had taken longer than Direct would have liked. Still, he couldn't afford to be hasty, not after what had happened the night before and especially not with a filly's life in the balance. Nodding to the stallion beside him, Direct grinned with a mixture of anxiety and confidence. "Then let's not waste any time."
Doctor and nurse dove back into the operation, working as efficiently as they could to remove the pieces of bone from seemingly every vital organ in the abdominal cavity, carefully making their way down the body. Direct lost track of time, engrossed in the steady work. He remained oblivious to the world beyond the operating table until he pulled the last shard of bone from the unfortunate filly's large intestine. How'd it even get all the way down there? he mused as he placed the offending bone in the sanitized tray and finally looked around.
A small mountain of fragments covered in blood and the occasional chunk of red flesh quickly filled the tray. Two EMT nurses tended the various machines around the room while the third was in deep conversation with Doctor Duty, who must have returned at some point while he was working. His brain slowly connected the dots as he looked to the pony standing beside him, and he jumped slightly at seeing Nurse Temperament taking her normal place beside him. "Uhh, how long have you been back?" he asked before he could think better of it. "And, uh, are you feeling, you know... better?" he tacked on rather lamely. Her eyes were still a bit red and her blonde mane was a mess, but she seemed to be back to normal otherwise.
His assistant smiled slightly, "Long enough to see you in action, Doctor Styles, and I'm feeling much better. Civil's very good at... encouraging. " Her smile faltered, "Doctor Styles I-" She cut herself off and her gaze dropped until she was staring at the ground, fresh tears welling up. "I- I want to apologize for how I acted earlier today, and really for how I've treated you ever since-"
"Hey, hey!" Doctor Duty shouted across the room, cutting off Nurse Temperament's apology. "It's great to see you two clearing the air and all, but priorities! Save patient now, kiss and make up later!"
The two ponies standing by the table blushed and looked away from each other. Clearing his throat and trying to forget about what the older doctor had just said, Direct turned back to the table. "Right, well, let's continue the operation then. Normally we'd have to get the bone fragments cleaned before we could replace them, but there isn't time for that right now. We'll just have to apply an extra coating of Gel to sanitize them as well as we can."
Nurse Temperament hastily nodded and began sorting through the pile of fragments, searching for the largest pieces to start with. "Hope you like jigsaw puzzles, Doctor Styles. This won't be easy, but..." She paused and bit her lip, eliciting a glance from Direct. She met his eyes for a brief moment, her expression conveying her emotions better than words ever could. She was afraid and nervous, but under it all ran a glimmer of hope. "But I believe you can do it," she whispered just loudly enough for him to hear before she turned away. "You have to." The last word was almost covered by an involuntary sob, and Doctor Duty cut off her conversation again to cast a worried look their way.
Nurse Temperament recovered after a moment, and the pair turned their attention back to the nearly-boneless chest cavity before them. "Right. Back to this, then."
Direct, though a bit worried about his assistant, nodded. "Okay, this is going to be tricky. We'll be rebuilding almost her entire ribcage from these pieces, and we can't afford to make any mistakes. Any preference on where we start?" he asked, looking over the large shards of bone Nurse Temperament had set aside as the most likely places to start.
"Try this one," the pink Pegasus replied, indicating the largest shard of rib bone. "Those edges look like they line up with the break pattern there," she pointed at a small nub sticking out from the sternum – what was left of the patient's upper-left-most rib.
Studying the break Direct had to agree; aside from a chip or two it looked like the two fit together perfectly. "As good a place as any. Try to find one that matches the break on the other side of this one while I reattach it."
"Got it," she affirmed with a nod, placing the Antibiotic Gel on the edge of the cart nearest the doctor before scouring the tray for a matching fragment.
Direct left the nurse to her work and focused on his own job. Taking both the bone fragment and the vial of Gel in his magical grasp, he carefully lowered the shard into the patient's body until it hovered right next to the nub it had broken off from. Aligning the two ends as closely as he could, he covered both ends in a healthy dose of gel, still holding the fragment in place as the miraculous substance went to work. It was too small for him to see, but he knew that the Gel was seeping into the bone's exposed marrow, helping to create more chondroblast cells which, in turn, would generate new bone. Meanwhile, on the surface of the fragments, the outer layer of gel hardened, holding the pieces in place and allowing Direct to release his magic.
Nodding in satisfaction when the bone stayed in place without his magic supporting it, Direct turned to Nurse Temperament, finding that she had already prepared the next bone shard for him: another large piece that looked like a perfect fit to reconnect the first fragment back to the spinal column, completing the first rib.
Once more grasping the bone and the Gel, Direct repeated the process he'd used on the last shard, quickly securing it in place to begin healing.
The two continued like this for what simultaneously felt like both a few hours and a few minutes. The pile of fragments steadily shrunk as they worked, Nurse Temperament sorting the intimidating mountain of work into neat groups as Direct fit the pieces into the jigsaw puzzle that had been the filly's ribcage. Eventually, the last of the ribs was repaired, a tiny fragment finishing the bottom-right-most floating rib.
"Uhh, Doctor?" Nurse Temperament asked uncertainly as Direct wiped the sweat from his brow. "It looks like we aren't quite done here yet."
"What do you mean?" Direct asked, turning to face the nurse... and the tray that still held a pile of bone fragments. "W-what? But that was the last rib!"
Nurse Temperament nodded slowly. "I was just thinking about that. The patient is a Pegasus, right?" Direct nodded; he recalled seeing the filly's wings buzzing at high speed as she flew by him. "Well, I think these bones might be the remains of her keel." At the doctor's confused look, she sighed. "It's the bone structure that pegasi flight muscles attach to. Normally, it's located just below the ribs," she gestured to an empty area of the filly's chest cavity, and on closer inspection Direct could see the damaged ends of two pairs of muscles that wrapped around behind the vital organs, as well as a pair of broken bones sticking out from the spinal column a short ways below the ribs, "right around there. Those muscles connect to the wing's shoulder joint and allow Pegasi to flap their wings."
A bit overwhelmed at the information flood, Direct shook his head. "We'll need to wait for a specialist to reattach those muscles, but we can at least reassemble the bone structure while we're here. Pass me the first piece."
And so they returned to that same routine, quickly reassembling the keel from the remaining fragments, until– "Well that's strange," Nurse Temperament remarked. "We're all out of fragments, but there's still a piece missing." She gestured to the nearly-completed bone structure, where there was clearly a fragment missing. "Are you sure you got all of them earlier?"
Doctor Styles shook his head, "I thought so, but apparently not. I'll have to use an Ultrasound spell to search for it." He immediately prepared to do just that, but a shout from one of the EMT nurses drew his attention.
"Doctor!" the nurse called out, "The patient is undergoing v-fib!" Direct inwardly cursed. He'd thought they were done with heart problems. Ventricular fibrillation was serious, and often accompanied full-on cardiac arrest, more commonly known as a heart attack.
The heart monitor beeped out a weak, irregular rhythm as doctor and nurse turned their attention to the spasming heart. The red mass was host to a number of zig-zagging sutures from the earlier treatment, and different parts of it contracted out of sequence with each other, leaving the distinct impression of a shaking bowl of gelatin. Direct began charging his defibrillator spell, only to stop as it struck him that he couldn't safely use it directly on the patient's heart . Nurse Temperament seemed to have come to the same conclusion, letting out a sigh. "Looks like we get to do this the old-fashioned way, Doctor."
Direct took pause at that remark. "'Old-fashioned'? I wasn't aware there was an 'old-fashioned' way to stop cardiac arrest."
Despite the situation, Nurse Temperament still shot the doctor a smirk. "I suppose they wouldn't have bothered teaching it to you Unicorns , but we had to learn how to fix a lot of issues without magic. Open-heart defibrillation is simple enough."
Genuinely impressed, Direct stepped back from the table. "Well, in that case, have at it," he gestured to the unconscious filly.
Her bravado faltered as she was called out, but Nurse Temperament quickly regained her courage. She'd done this many times before, and while getting the right timing was tricky, the technique was not too difficult. Nodding in affirmation, she retrieved a pair of sterilized hoof-gloves from the supply cart and reared up onto her hind legs. Slipping the gloves over her forelegs, she reached a hoof into the filly's chest until she made contact with the quivering mass of blood-pumping muscle. It's so... squishy, she noted absently, yet also firm. It was quite a strange, contradictory feeling. "O-okay, beginning the heart massage treatment."
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Nurse Temperament gently pressed down on the heart with her hoof, slowly beginning to knead the organ in a regular rhythm. As she moved her hoof around the heart, pressing in on different spots in time with the heartbeat she sought to achieve, she felt something strange. One spot resisted her push, holding hard and unyielding in contrast to the rest of the organ's firm squishiness. Moving on, she felt nothing strange with the other areas she worked, but when she returned to that spot again... her rhythm faltered and her massage ended as she once more felt that strange, hard spot. Ignoring the strange looks from Doctor Styles and the EMT, she began gingerly feeling around the spot, quickly discovering a long, thin hard area surrounded by normal, squishy heart.
Now what could this be..? she wondered, before her eyes widened as realization struck her like a runaway cart. "D-doctor?" she stammered without moving. "I think I found our missing piece."
Direct shot her a curious look, but charged up his horn, pinging the area Nurse Temperament had been examining. Sure enough, he felt a shard of bone somehow stuck inside the patient's heart. "I... guess that explains the fibrillation." A bit taken aback, he paused for a long moment before retrieving a scalpel from the cart. "We'll have to reopen the heart and retrieve that fragment."
"Right," Nurse Temperament affirmed, disposing of her gloves and taking her place by the doctor's side.
Pinging the Ultrasound spell one more time to confirm the location of the bone shard, Direct carefully made his incision, easily slicing through the pericardium and several layers of myocardium before reaching the bone shard. With his target in sight, Direct drew the scalpel along the embedded bone, creating an incision just slightly longer than the fragment. Swapping his scalpel for the forceps Nurse Temperament had prepared for him, he carefully extracted the exposed shard. Placing it on the tray, he allowed himself a sigh of relief when he noticed that it looked like it would fit perfectly in the keel structure, filling in the one remaining gap.
"Well that's a relief," Nurse Temperament commented, having noticed the same thing.
Doctor Styles nodded tiredly. "Let's close this back up so we can- WOAH!" Direct cut himself off with a yell as the incision he had made, so small originally, suddenly lengthened. What had once been less than a centimeter long had nearly tripled in length.
"It's the fibrillation!" Nurse Temperament realized. They had failed to completely fix the issue due to the bone fragment, and the spasming had returned with a vengeance. The monitor beeped irregularly as the heart quivered violently, the rapid motion tearing the incision ever wider and threatening to burst the other sutures. Suddenly, it gave one almighty spasm, tearing the whole muscle mass along the line of the incision.
"No!" Direct distantly heard somepony shout in his voice. He barely noticed it, though. The room around him melted away, leaving only the patient in front of him. That little orange Pegasus filly, her friends were probably still waiting in the lobby with Pinkie Pie. He'd promised them that their friend would be okay, and here he was, watching her heart tear itself open in slow motion. I won't let you die! The words flashed through his mind, and with them he clearly saw a blue pentagram trace itself over the filly's heart; his Cutie Mark.
Without thinking, he acted. Grabbing the enchanted suturing needle off the table, he didn't bother activating it as he drove it into the flesh of the filly's heart, which seemed to have stopped moving mere millimeters from tearing itself in half. Using the needle the old-fashioned way, he moved as fast as he could without causing more damage or compromising the sutures' integrity. Manually sewing the gigantic incision closed, he pulled the broken heart back together.
The moment he finished tying off the sutures, he nearly collapsed as the world came rushing back in; sights, sounds, and colors overwhelming his senses along with a sudden feeling of exhaustion.
"What the!?" His assistant's voice sounded far too loud in his suddenly sensitive ears, causing him to jump slightly. "Doctor Styles, are you alright? And what just happened!?" Her ears and voice dropped suddenly and she looked at the floor. "The patient... I thought she was going to... but then... What was that!?" Suddenly she was back in his face, seemingly not noticing his discomfort. "I thought I saw you move, but it was all over so fast..."
Wincing, Direct fought the urge to cover his ears and steadied himself. "I'm... not sure," he answered honestly, the clarity from only moments before now long gone. "It's all kind of a blur..." The screeching heart monitor brought him back to the moment, and he turned to Nurse Temperament. "The patient! We still need a pulse!"
"Oh, right!" Not quite satisfied with what she knew about what had just occurred, she nevertheless turned her attention back to the filly lying on the table. Quickly obtaining a new pair of sanitized gloves, she resumed her heart massage treatment while Direct tried to puzzle out his recent memories.
This time, the treatment went off without a hitch, the organ's erratic beating falling in rhythm with Nurse Temperament's kneading. Before long, the heart monitor chirped a happy tune in time with the filly's regularly-beating heart.
"Glad it worked this time," she remarked, disposing of her used gloves with a smile. "Ready to finish up this operation, doctor?" She turned to find Doctor Styles staring off into the distance, lost in thought. "Doctor?" She called, jolting him out of his reverie.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Let's finish up here." He returned to the table sluggishly, his mind unfocused and his body somewhat unresponsive. Shaking his head so hard it made him dizzy helped to clear out the cobwebs, and he grabbed the Antibiotic Gel and the last bone fragment in his magic, unceremoniously placing the shard in its place with a generous heap of Gel to keep it there. "Are we done for real this time?" he deadpanned, feeling far too tired to keep going.
"Well," Nurse Temperament began guiltily, noticing her partner's weariness, "there's still the matter of four broken limbs, and possible wing damage, plus we still need to close up our entry incision..." She grinned sheepishly as the doctor's face fell, but an unexpected interjection drew her attention.
"Oh no you don't. Direct, you're way too tired to be operating." Doctor Duty strode up to the table with an air of authority. "Nurse Temperament, take Doctor Styles to the ward down the hall and put him in a bed to rest. The Techs and I can finish up in here."
"Civil," the pink nurse protested, "no offense, but you're an anesthesiologist, and this is a delicate orthopedic operation we're talking about here."
Growing impatient, Civil grabbed Direct in her magic, picking him up and depositing him on Nurse Temperament's back, a position he hastily scrambled to remove himself from. "That's why they're here," she said, gesturing to the EMTs behind her. Calming a bit, she added with a smirk and a wink: "Besides, I dated an Orthopedic Surgeon in med school. It'll be fine, trust me."
Nurse Temperament rolled her eyes but nevertheless accepted her friend's decision. "Come on, Doctor Styles, let's get you to bed." Gently laying a wing over the tired doctor's back, she led him out of the operating theater. Blushing a bit at the contact and his own sudden weakness, Direct stumbled along.
Slowly down the hall they went, stopping several doors down at the ward. Like the many other wards in the hospital, it was a long room with a number of beds spaced along the wall, with curtains and small bedside tables at each. Nurse Temperament led Doctor Styles over to the nearest bed, awkwardly helping him get in. Once he was settled, he looked back at her. "Thank you," he mumbled through a yawn.
She nodded and smiled, her cheeks turning a bit pinker. There was a long pause, then: "Y-you did good today, Doctor Styles. You saved her life."
Doctor Styles smiled back, but his brow furrowed. Something didn't sound right with that... Shaking his head, he corrected her. "We saved her life."
Nurse Temperament's smile grew wider and her blush a bit deeper. "We saved her," she agreed, then turned to leave.
Doctor Styles watched her go, again feeling like something was missing. He jolted up in bed as he remembered their conversation from earlier. "Nurse Temperament!" He called, wincing as he realized he'd shouted at a mare standing not ten feet from him. With her attention back on him, he shrunk back a bit, but pressed on. "I just- uh, well..." His train of thought derailed as soon as it left the station. He rubbed the back of his head with a hoof, his own blush turning his cheeks purple. "A-apology accepted," he finally said, "and, well, I'm, you know, sorry for how I acted, too." He met her eyes, now, "Do you think you can forgive me, Nurse Temperament?"
The nurse in question was a bit taken aback at first, but once she realized what he was saying, she beamed back at him. "Of course, Doctor Styles." Turning to go once more, she opened the door, but paused in the doorway. Looking back over her shoulder at the stallion lying in bed, she added with a small smile: "Oh, and by the way, my friends call me Angel."
Smiling back and blushing a bit more, he replied, "And mine call me Direct."
"Then, goodnight, Direct."
"Goodnight, Angel."
Author's Note
*peeks out from under rock*
Yeah, so, I'd say that with any luck you won't have to wait quite so long for the next chapter, but with my track record... Let's just say that I never actually said anything of the sort so I don't jinx myself again.
Thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Eight: Of Cutie Marks
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Eight: Of Cutie Marks
Location: Ponyville Medical
"-and ya've got ta touch all three bases an' make it back ta the start before somepony tags ya with the ball!" The little yellow filly reared up on her hind legs to show her excitement, but wound up overbalancing and falling flat on her back. "Ow."
The filly's friends gave her strange looks. "That sounds dumb," the orange Pegasus filly responded from her perch in the hospital bed.
"Scootaloo!" The white Unicorn filly standing on the other side of the bed scolded. "That was mean. Applebloom put a lot of work into that idea. I don't suppose you've got a better one?"
"Err," Scootaloo rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, "what about a game where you make up the rules as you go?" At the Unicorn's blank stare, Scootaloo sighed in defeat. "Okay, okay. Sorry, Applebloom."
The yellow Earth Pony picked herself up off the ground, "Ah, don't sweat it. It needs some work fer sure. What about you, Sweetie Belle? Ya got any ideas?"
Direct smiled as he listened to the fillies' back-and-forth. The self-proclaimed 'Cutie Mark Crusaders' had shown up at the hospital about a half-hour earlier to see their friend. At first there had been many worried questions about what had happened and how she felt, but now the three girls were playing 'Cutie Mark Crusaders Sport Inventors YAY!' They'd nearly broken his eardrums with that shout, but it was nice to see his young patient recovering so well after what she’d faced; though the way she occasionally winced and clutched her chest was an unfortunate reminder that she wasn’t completely back to normal.
Off in the corner of the small, private room sat an orange Earth Pony mare wearing a Stetson. She'd come with the two fillies and stayed to supervise them while they visited. The hat was pulled over her eyes, and at first glance she seemed to be asleep, but Direct had noticed her ears twitching and swiveling about, and realized she was keeping a silent watch.
Against what, however, he wasn't sure. It's just a hospital. Not like anything odd goes on here. With that thought, however, he turned back to the paperwork he was working on. Then again... After the previous night's 'next to no medical staff on call' incident, the Guard had had everypony involved fill out a report. Or so he'd been told. He had still been asleep when everypony else had done theirs, and now that he was up it was his turn.
Nurse Temperament trotted in as he completed a list of the ponies he knew had been in the building that night. She smiled at the fillies, who were now debating the fairness of wings and magic in sports, before turning to Direct. "Almost done?" she smiled somewhat awkwardly. After what had happened last night they'd both become more open and friendly with each other, but they were still testing the waters on just how much.
"Just finished," he said, standing up and stretching out. "You know where that Guard Lieutenant is? I should get this to him before he blows another gasket." The officer had not reacted well when he'd been told one of the reports would have to wait.
"He's in the break room, 'interviewing' everypony he can get his hooves on," she replied with a hint of sarcasm. Direct could imagine that his idea of an interview was more along the lines of interrogation. "Speaking of, I happened to overhear an interesting rumor or two. You know the Director's secretary?"
"Oh, yeah, Mrs., uh, What's-her-name?" He grinned a bit stupidly. "Heh, now that I think about it I never did catch her name."
Angel leaned a bit closer, dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "That's just the thing. Apparently everypony is just now realizing that they have no idea who she was. What's more, apparently the Director found a letter of resignation on her desk this morning. She just up and quit; emptied her desk and everything, not a trace left behind. And that's not even mentioning that the whole building's been crawling with Guardsponies since last night, and nopony's seen hide or hair of her."
Direct was a bit stunned at the news, but slowly began to nod. "You think maybe she had something to do with last night? The call schedule goes right through her hooves before it gets sent out."
"That's the general consensus, yeah, but what nopony can figure out is why . Nopony really knew her well enough to think of any reason she might have done it." Angel shook her head. "But this is all just rumor and hearsay anyway. I guess we're all just freaked out that something like that could happen without us noticing until it was too late."
Direct shivered involuntarily. It was definitely a scary thought. "Anyway, I'd better get these to Lieutenant Hardflank. Keep an eye on them for me?" He gestured to the conspiring fillies.
Angel giggle-snorted at the nickname, and gave him an amused nod. "Sure, how hard could-" she was cut off by a loud bang coming from the bedside table, which had somehow been overturned in the few seconds that neither of them had been looking. Two fillies stood and one lay nearby with identical looks of angelic innocence. "-it be." she finished lamely as a Guardspony, drawn by the noise, burst into the room.
"What was that noise?" the guard demanded, looking every which way for trouble.
"Relax, Sugarcube," the orange mare called from her place in the corner, shifting in her chair but never looking up. "They're just fillies bein' fillies."
The guard calmed down on seeing the overturned table, nodding in acceptance. "Okay, then, uh, as you were," he saluted lamely, turning to leave.
Seeing an opportunity to not let the troublesome fillies out of his sight, Direct seized it, passing his report to the guard and asking him to take it straight to the Lieutenant. "We'd hate to keep him waiting, after all, wouldn't we?" He grinned a bit evilly as the guard rushed out the door as if Cerberus himself were on his tail.
His grin lasted until Angel lightly wing-slapped him on the back of the head. "That was mean," she said, barely containing a grin of her own.
Direct bit back his retort as he heard the orange mare's voice from right beside him, jumping slightly as he turned his attention to her. "If ya'll are done chattin', I was hopin' I could talk to ya'll about Scootaloo."
Nurse Temperament, a bit surprised as well, quickly composed herself. "Of course, what did you want to know, Miss..?" she prompted, realizing she didn't know the mare's name.
"Applejack," the mare tilted her Stetson up at last, giving them a view of her green eyes. "I just need ta know how long until she's all ready ta go home is all."
"Well," Doctor Styles answered, dropping his voice so the fillies couldn't overhear, "we can't really gauge that until we're able to perform a second operation. Her wing muscles still need to be reattached, and the only specialist we have who could do that is in the Brayhamas right now. And before that, we still need to meet with her parents first to get their permission to even perform that operation," he finished with a look at Nurse Temperament, who nodded to confirm he'd covered everything.
"Well, shoot," Applejack said carefully, "that's kinda where things get complicated. Is there someplace else we could talk about this? I hate ta bring this up in front of Scootaloo. Celestia knows she gets enough of a reminder every day..."
Nurse Temperament, looking both confused and worried, gestured to the door. The three of them started to leave the room, before Applejack stopped them. With a worried glance over her shoulder at the trio of fillies, she asked, "Uh, could one of ya stay here with them? They're good kids, but they have this habit of gettin' in trouble when nopony's watchin'."
"I'll stay," Doctor Styles volunteered. "Nurse Temperament knows the specifics better than I do anyway."
Nodding in thanks, Applejack allowed herself to be led out of the room. "Just make sure they stay outta trouble, as much as ya can, anyway," she added with a smirk.
As the door closed behind the two mares, Direct turned to face the fillies, who he now noticed had gone silent. The three sat frozen in place, staring at him with wide, excited eyes. "Uh... Hi?" he tried.
In a blink the two not confined to a bed were upon him. "What's yer Cutie Mark mean, Mr. Doctor? It's a star, so are ya really good at that astro-nima stuff?" Applebloom questioned, studying his Mark.
"It's Astronomy , Applebloom." corrected Sweetie Belle exasperatedly. "And besides that, it's not a star, it's a pentagram."
"Now I know you're just making things up," interjected Scootaloo from her place on the bed, pointing an accusing hoof at her friend. "That's totally a star. Remember when Miss Cheerilee had us draw a whole bunch of them?"
The fillies' bickering faded out as Direct pondered the question. He'd never known just what his Mark was supposed to mean, but after what had happened...
He stood staring at the rapidly spasming heart, watching in seeming slow-motion as it tore itself in half along his incision. He felt hopeless and lost. After all of that work, he couldn't save her. He'd promised, but he'd failed. Did he even deserve to be called a doctor if he couldn't help anypony?
I won't let you die!
The words flashed through his mind. The voice that spoke them was firm and confident, as though it was stating fact, not merely opinion. The voice spoke of trials and experience, of joys and hardships.
And it sounded a lot like his own.
The words burned within him, filling him with warm determination. He acted without hesitation, with no need for thought. His horn ignited, snatching up the suturing needle, but he didn't notice. All of his attention was focused solely on the heart before him, ever-so-slowly tearing itself apart.
He knew he should be worried, panicked even, but he was not. He felt nothing but calm as he watched a light blue pentagram trace itself over his field of vision. The completed pentagram flashed, and he moved into action, suturing the incision closed as quickly as he dared.
The pentagram shape faded away and the world around him rushed back in, deafening exclamations from the ponies around the room cut off all at once as he nearly blacked out...
"...and summon the legendary demon Colthulu!" Scootaloo proclaimed, throwing her hooves into the air.
Direct stood in stunned silence as the orange filly finished what had obviously been a long-winded explanation, and he wasn’t the only one. Both of her friends stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “I think yah’ve read too many comic books, Scootaloo,” Applebloom finally replied, shaking her head.
“No way!” Scootaloo huffed indignantly. “If he’s not a Tartaric cultist, then why isn’t he saying anything?” She cast a glare at the doctor. “It’s cuz he knows I’m right!”
Well this conversation took an interesting turn, Direct mused, shaking his mind clear. “I’m not a cultist,” he said with what he hoped was a good-natured laugh.
“Exactly what I’d expect a cultist to say!” Scootaloo shouted, jabbing an accusing hoof at him. She opened her mouth to say more, but a white hoof shoved itself into the open hole, silencing her.
“I’m sorry about her,” Sweetie Belle apologized. “She can get a little… excited.” Scootaloo shot her a dirty look over the hoof that still covered her mouth, crossing her own hooves over her chest in anger at being cut off.
Direct nodded with a bemused smile; those fillies might have been a bit crazy, but they were good kids in the end. Still, he had no clue how they’d gotten around to calling him a cultist. “So,” he tried, remembering that he had to keep them busy so they couldn’t get in trouble, “you’re trying to get your Cutie Marks?”
The fillies nodded. “We’re the last ponies in our class not ta have ‘em,” Applebloom supplied. “Everypony keeps tellin’ us we’ll get ‘em when we get ‘em, but we still don’t have ‘em yet.” Her friends nodded in agreement; they were all anxious to find out what their special talents were.
“Last ponies in your class, huh?” Doctor Styles mused, some not-so-pleasant memories of his own surfacing. “I was the last pony in my class to get my Mark, too.” The fillies stared at him, wide-eyed. Here was somepony who knew their plight first-hand; maybe he could finally teach them the secret to getting their Cutie Marks! “You’re all still in Primary School, right?” the doctor asked, thinking. Receiving three nods, he continued: “I was a Blank Flank until my first year of Secondary School.”
Three jaws dropped in unison: the Cutie Mark Crusaders hadn’t known it was possible to get that old without finding your special talent! “So what happened?” questioned Scootaloo. “How’d you get your Cutie Mark?”
Direct smiled as he sat down on the floor by her bed; who’d have thought that keeping three fillies out of trouble would be as simple as telling a story? “Well, it all started out as a pretty normal day…”
Direct Styles walked down the hallway of his school in Canterlot, his muzzle buried in an old book. He let his hooves carry him around the campus, paying no mind to anything beyond the words on the page in front of him.
Unlike physical foci, shape foci are most effective at focusing oneself and one’s power, allowing the caster to perform complicated spells with much greater ease. Examples of shape foci include circles, pentagrams, and ancient Roanan writing (expanded list on page 394).
He kept walking as he read, his mind absorbed in the topic of magical foci. He’d found the old book in the back of the school library – not even the librarian had known anything about it, though she’d gone ahead and checked it out to him. Entitled “Assisted Magic - a Complete Reference,” the book detailed the different forms of magical aids and their applications. It was a fascinating topic, especially to him – since he still hadn’t found his special talent, he figured he should just study as much about magic as he could, and see if there was any area in particular he excelled at.
As might be expected, his complete focus on the book left him unaware of his surroundings, right up until he ran straight into a large, furry red mass. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Blank Flank,” the bigger pony chuckled meanly. “Ready for your daily pounding?” A heavy Earth Pony hoof stomped the ground menacingly at the last word.
“Hello, Brick Breaker,” Direct sighed in defeat, looking around and finding himself in a secluded corner of the campus, away from the main part of the school, and potential help. He should have been watching where he was going, but then again he knew he couldn’t avoid the bully forever. The daily beatings had been a sort of tradition for the last few years, and he knew that if the bully didn’t get it out of his system now he’d get much worse later.
It was around twenty minutes later when a bruised and battered Direct picked himself up off the ground, wincing when he put pressure on his back right leg. He retrieved and straightened his newly-bent glasses, and began to limp his way back to the main part of campus, his tormentor having left for class long ago. No doubt he’d get chewed out by Mrs. Denominator for being late again, and he would nod and return to his day; it wasn’t like anypony had ever believed him when he’d told them the truth. Brick Breaker was a shoe-in for the hoofball team once tryouts started, and, famous parents aside, Direct was just another nopony student. Worse than that, he grimaced with a glance at his flank, he was the nopony student.
Thoughts like these plagued his mind as he returned to the school’s main building. Both teachers and his fellow students had largely overlooked him for the past few years, and those who did notice him were in the same vein as Brick; they did so only to harass him over his lack of Cutie Mark.
He rounded a corner and pushed open the door leading to the large courtyard in the middle of the campus. His class was right on the other side, so he opted to cut through rather than go around. The cool fall air stung at his recent wounds and a bright yellow leaf fell from one of the trees planted around the yard and smacked him in the face. As he wiped the leaf from his face, a yell shattered the quiet.
“AAAAAHHH!” A grey blur came crashing through the trees, breaking through a number of large branches before impacting the ground with an almighty THUD.
Direct stood stunned for a few moments as he tried to process what had just occurred. A blonde-maned, grey-coated Pegasus mare lay unmoving on the ground not far from him, surrounded by the branches she had broken on her way down. She looked to be a few years older than he was, and worked for the post office if the uniform she was wearing and the mailbag lying next to her were any indication. Hesitantly he took a few steps closer, and flinched when he saw that some of the branches carried a dark red sheen.
Direct’s breath caught when he saw the pool of red liquid slowly spreading away from the Pegasus. She was bleeding, and pretty badly at that.
She needs help.
That much was plainly obvious, but there was nopony around. Everyone else would be in their classes right now, and the school nurse was on the other side of the building! There was no help.
I’m here. I can help.
Direct’s brow creased. Where in Equestria had that thought come from? He didn’t know the first thing about treating injuries, and it certainly wasn’t like him to offer help like that. After all, everypony else just wanted to hurt him; why should he help them?
Because I can.
He’d briefly entertained the thought that these strange thoughts were coming from something else – maybe a ghost had taken up residence in his skull – but there was no mistaking it. The “voice” that spoke in his mind was his own, but stronger. It was a successful, confident, and kinder Direct Styles, calling him to action.
Just as soon as he recognized the voice, he realized it was right. In his fervent study of all things magic, he’d studied a good bit about medical magic a month or so ago. He tried to remember something that could help him, but at first nothing came to mind. Suddenly, a blue, five-pointed shape straight out of his book appeared in his vision, and the information flooded in.
First aid for deep lacerations: He recalled the chapter heading from “Medical Methods: Mundane and Magical” with a strange ease. The proper treatment came to mind almost of its own accord, and he quickly got to work. A flare of red light shot into the air and hovered just above him as he tore the mare’s already-ruined uniform into strips and magically pressed them into the largest wounds to slow the blood loss.
It felt like forever before a Pegasus-pulled chariot landed in the courtyard, Emergency Technicians hopping out and coming to his aid. With no materials available to clean the wounds he’d been stuck at the ‘apply pressure’ stage, but the arrivals quickly saw to fixing that before applying clean bandages.
Direct spoke to one of the Pegasi as her fellows got their new patient set up. He explained what had happened as well as he could – omitting the part about the voice in his head – and she thanked him for helping before she took off with the others back towards the hospital.
It wasn’t until he finished washing the blood off his hooves and coat that he noticed a new, five-pointed addition to his flank.
Three wide-eyed fillies stared unblinkingly at him as he told his tale, skimming over the details of his bullying and the voice in his head. They gasped in fear when he spoke of the injured pony, and burst into cheers as help arrived. At last, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ accompanied his description of his brand-new Cutie Mark.
The three girls chatted appreciatively about his story while he stood and stretched. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting but his back hooves had fallen asleep. When the feeling finally returned to his legs, he noticed that the Unicorn filly was staring at him again. “Uhh, yes? What is it?”
She seemed a bit surprised at being called out, but finally got her nerve. “Well, you see, I was just wondering… You told us how you got your Cutie Mark, but you never said what it means .”
Direct frowned at that; he still had no idea himself. Taking a moment to think over the question, Direct came to a conclusion that, he supposed, at least made sense, even if it wasn’t the real answer. Smiling, he replied: “It means I’m really good at focusing.”
Author's Note
Lots of exposition and next to no real progression. I suppose every story has to have that chapter eventually, right?
Questions, comments, criticisms and suggestions are all appreciated, and I’m happy to respond to any feedback. Until next time, thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Nine: Of Cultists
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Nine: Of Cultists
Location: Everfree Forest
A brown-coated Unicorn mare weaved her way between the trees, following a convoluted course known only to her. Her seemingly random turns and backtracking would have drawn questioning glances were it not for where she was: deep within the Everfree Forest. The locals avoided the place like the plague, so she was completely alone. The thick canopy cast the forest floor into thick darkness despite it being around noontime, but the mare didn't need to see where she was going. She knew the way to the secluded cave by heart.
What felt like, and very well could have been, hours later, the mare reached her destination. Merely one cave out of hundreds in the area dominated by the Everfree Forest, most ponies wouldn't bat an eye at it. But she knew better. Drawing near the mouth of the cave, she peered resolutely into the darkness. "Progress is fickle, and abandons his children to the world," she whispered.
"But Nature protects her own, now and forever," came the near-silent response as an Earth Pony materialized just in front of her, stepping into the half-light of the forest. His body was covered in charcoal powder, allowing him to become practically invisible in the dark of the cave. "Oikos welcomes you, Sister."
She sighed in relief and nodded. "Thank you, Brother." The stallion stepped aside to let her pass into the cave, but put a hoof on her shoulder to stop her as she entered.
"Mother told me to send you to her when you arrived. She is waiting for you in the Chapel."
The mare gulped nervously. She'd known her blunder would not go unpunished, but a personal meeting with the Mother, and in the Chapel no less? It seemed she was in more trouble than she’d thought. She briefly considered turning back, fleeing the organization she found herself caught up in, but she knew she wouldn’t get far. Even if she escaped the gate guard just behind her, Mother had eyes and ears everywhere. Not to mention that the Equestrian authorities would soon be after her. There was nowhere in the country where she’d be safe, and little to no chance of leaving it, either.
Her ears pressed flat against her skull as she moved forward into the darkness. She made her way through the labyrinthian cavern with practiced ease, headed toward the large, central chamber known as the Chapel. She met nopony on her way, which while not unheard of for the secretive sect, was still unusual; there should at least be signs of activity throughout the caves as members went about their business, but the whole place was as silent as a tomb. When she finally approached the Chapel, she discovered why.
The stale cave air reverberated with the rumbling of a thousand ponies talking amongst themselves. The rows upon rows of bench seats carved from the cave floor were filled to capacity, ponies sitting around but ultimately facing the stage opposite where she now stood just inside the entrance. They seemed to be waiting for something.
For me, the mare realized. The Mother had not meant to chastise her one-on-one at all. No, she was going to be made an example for the others; an example of what happened to those who made mistakes, and those who disobeyed the Father’s will.
Losing all sense of nerve, she backed into the darkness of the cave. I’ve got to get out of here, she thought, casting her eyes about wildly to make sure nopony had spotted her. Maybe I can turn myself over to the Guard; being locked in a dungeon for the rest of my life will certainly be better than what Mother has in store.
It was at this moment that an age-old adage proved its relevance: speak of the devil, and he shall come. The mare, lost in her thoughts as she backed away, quickly came to when she bumped into something tall and furry. “Hello, Daughter,” the sickly sweet voice of the Mother whispered in her ear as she froze. “So good to see you again. You’ve been away from home for so long, I was getting worried.”
“M-mother.” Never before in the history of Equestria had that word been said with such utter dread. The mare’s pupils dilated and her breath caught, any plans she might have made dashed to pieces.
She could almost feel the look of confused worry that came over the Mother’s face, despite both the dark and facing the wrong way to see it. “Why Daughter,” the Mother gasped, “you don’t sound very pleased to see me. Is something wrong? Why don’t you come in here with me, and we can talk about it.” The Mother gestured toward the filled Chapel as though it were a private chamber, where she could speak her heart and mind to the pony she trusted most in the whole world.
The cooing voice in her ear slipped past her defenses, numbing her mind. She nodded dumbly as the Mother stepped around her, leading the way. A part of her screamed that something was wrong; that she wanted to leave, not follow this madmare to her doom. She swiftly shut out that part of her. She trusted the Mother with her life, and more.
She quietly followed the Mother through the Chapel, which fell quiet as all eyes rested on them. The Mother’s black cloak swayed behind her, the random patterns of its movements mesmerizing the voice-drugged mare. They walked past countless rows of benches, each one seating her Brothers and Sisters. The benches reached from one wall to the other with a wide aisle cutting through the middle. The room itself was mostly circular, the natural cave walls stretched up to a ceiling lost in the darkness high above them.
In swift silence, the pair reached the stage, a large slab of stone standing above the main floor of the Chapel, bare but for a stone altar in the center. It was to the altar that the Mother led her, helping her up and laying her on her back on the cold stone. The Mother cooed a few reassuring words in her ears, the last tiny vestiges of resistance fading from her mind as her eyes closed peacefully.
Turning from the altar, the Mother dropped her cloak, revealing her form to her entire audience. She was much taller than the average pony, her legs long and thin. Her dark grey coat and her sickly green mane and tail were covered in blurry, grey stripes. A short, slightly deformed horn sprouted from her forehead while her back sported a pair of tiny wings, brown feathers mixing seemingly randomly with dark grey ones. The torchlight that dimly lit the cavern reflected off the patches of shiny scales on her underbelly. The Mother smiled as she addressed her Children, revealing a pair of nubs where there might have been fangs.
“My dear Children!” the Mother called to her assembled followers, the cave’s acoustics making it sound like she was speaking from everywhere in the room at once. “Today one of our own has finally returned home from her mission in the town of Ponyville!” The room briefly filled with cheers as the brown mare stood from the altar, moving dreamily to stand by the Mother.
“Dearest Mother,” she spoke to the deformed mare beside her, “I have returned, but I am unworthy of this celebration.” Her mouth spoke words not her own, her head hanging of its own accord. “I have failed my Father-sent mission, Mother.”
The crowd gasped in shock. Failed? She had failed to carry out the Father’s will? How was that possible? What would happen now?
The Mother looked at her in sorrow. “Failed? My Daughter, whatever could you mean?” Leaning in closer, she whispered in the mare’s ear– “Tell us what happened.”
And so, she began to explain. Her tone was emotionless as she detailed her mission: to infiltrate Ponyville’s hospital in preparation for the Father’s wrath; she would leave them disorganized and unprepared at the very hour that they struck. But she had made a mistake. She had moved too quickly, and by the time she realized it it was already too late. “I couldn’t change the schedule so dramatically after it had already been sent out; it would have attracted too much attention. So I contacted one of the Father’s priests, but we could not move up his plan over my failure.”
She noticed feeling beginning to return to her words as the Mother’s whispers began to fade from her mind, but she still wasn’t in control. “I hoped against hope that something would change, or that nopony would notice, but just last night my plan came to light and I was forced to flee.” She concluded her tale heavily, wishing she could similarly flee the situation she now found herself in.
The cavern was silent, her Brothers and Sisters digesting her tale. Beside her, the Mother sighed in resignation. “My Daughter,” she spoke, her voice intimate yet at the same time loud enough for everypony to hear. “I do not wish to do this, but failure must be punished.” She fell quiet again as she considered, then opened her mouth to deliver her verdict.
A low, rumbling moan sounded wordlessly from behind the stage, stopping the Mother short. Turning around, she faced the great stone door half-concealed by the shadows along the cavern’s back wall. “Yes, dear?” she responded softly.
Another long, low groan sent shivers down the Unicorn’s spine.
The Mother nodded. “As you wish, my husband.” While everypony was still trying to make sense of the exchange, she moved around the Unicorn mare and began directing her towards the door. “The Father has spoken,” she said, again loudly enough for all to hear. “You are to face the Trial of Nature. If you succeed, you will serve the Father as a priestess. But should you fail…” she trailed off. Finishing that sentence was unnecessary; everypony present knew that the Trial would kill anypony who did not pass it. Together they reached the back wall, the brown Unicorn trying and failing to resist the Mother’s pull. “Come, it is time for you to meet your Father.”
Many of the ponies were still stunned at the voice – if it could even be called that – that had come from the wall behind the stage. It had been a long time since the Father had spoken to the general assembly and many now present had not been the last time it had occurred. Much grinding of stone was heard as the Mother and the potential priestess-to-be disappeared into the shadows of the back wall, and when the room was quiet again those gathered broke out into conversation as they dispersed.
Author's Note
I’ve always thought that, of all the things that happen in the game, Hope Hospital not having a single emergency surgeon on call that night was one of the strangest. Thus, evil cultist plot.
And so we get the first look at the Equestrian version of Delphi, an organization known as Oikos (Greek for family, for those curious). They’ll be appearing much more frequently as we start getting into the real meat of this story. Hope y’all are ready!
Questions, comments, criticisms and suggestions are all appreciated, and I’m happy to respond to any feedback. Until next time, thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Ten: Asclepius
Location: Ponyville Medical
For the second time in as many weeks, Direct Styles found himself in the office of Ponyville Medical’s aged Director, face-to-face with the former world-famous surgeon himself as they sat on opposite sides of a large mahogany desk. Once again, he’d been called in the day after an operation to discuss what had happened.
This time, however, he wasn’t in trouble. At least – he gulped – he didn’t think so.
Things had gone more or less back to normal in the few days that had passed since Ponyville Medical had found itself almost completely unstaffed for a night. There were still a few extra guards hanging around and everypony was being much more mindful of their schedules, but the staff refused to let such a near-disaster stop them from doing their jobs.
And so it was that Direct was back to regularly seeing patients, the most recent of whom was the reason he was here now.
“I’m hoping you can clarify a few parts of this operation report for me, Direct,” Doctor Healing started grimly, gesturing to a file sitting on his desk.
Direct shifted nervously in his seat. Even though he knew the Director much better than he had the last time he’d been here, he was still worried that he might have done something wrong, and the elder Unicorn’s serious expression wasn’t helping. “S-sure, Director. What part?”
Revered Healing’s expression softened as he caught Direct’s eye. “You’re not in trouble, Direct. I’m just a bit… concerned about this part at the end, here.” Flipping open the report, he indicated a spot near the end of the report. “Doctor Stables claims that you cleared up the thrombi in a matter of seconds .”
“S-seconds?” the young doctor asked, confused. Sure, he’d been too focused to be sure exactly how much time had passed, but…
”Doctor, this is bad!” Nurse Temperament’s voice cut through the beeps of the various machines around the Operating Room. “The increased blood flow is pushing the thrombi through faster; even the suspended ones are moving again!” It was true. He’d been caught off-guard as the little lumps he’d been removing from his patient’s spleen had started rushing through the veins, in stark contrast to their earlier crawl.
No! He couldn’t let them pass through to damage other parts of the body! Even one could cause some serious damage; enough getting by him could end his patient’s life.
A flash of light.
A five-pointed shape.
Everything was slowing down.
“Seconds.” Direct muttered quietly. This was now the second time he’d felt, for lack of a better phrase, time slowing down in the middle of an operation. He’d thought he was just imagining things due to the stressful situations, but if what Doctor Stables had said was true…
Doctor Revered Healing watched Direct think, his own mind wandering a bit, thinking about the young surgeon before him. It was all rather unusual, based on what he knew. He’d honestly never thought he’d meet the next one, much less be a part of training him.
The elder stallion was pulled from his musings when Direct finally spoke up. “Director, this might sound a little crazy, but, well, do you think it might be possible,” Direct paused, glancing around nervously, as though he might be carried away for even suggesting what he was thinking. After a moment of silence, he worked his nerve back up and continued. “Possible for somepony to s-slow down time? Even just for a little bit?”
The Director gave him a reassuring smile. “Not quite as such, but I believe we have something rather important to talk about.” Revered Healing closed his eyes in thought. “I suppose it would be best to start at the beginning. Tell me, Direct, what do you know of the Alicorns?”
Direct, a bit startled at the change of subject, took a moment to respond. “W-well, currently there are only three Alicorns; Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadenza. However, long ago, before Equestria was founded, there were many Alicorns, each of whom embodied something, like how the Princesses represent the sun, the moon, and love. Most of them died during Discord’s reign, or simply disappeared.”
“Good, good. I see you read your textbooks in school. Now, what can you tell me about the Alicorn called Asclepius?” the Director pressed.
Direct was stumped. The existence of Alicorns was all fairly common knowledge, but references to individual ones besides the current Princesses were hard to come by, and gave very few details. He had no idea who the Director was talking about, but he had a feeling he’d find out. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of him. What was Asclepius the Alicorn of?”
“In his time, Asclepius was known as the Alicorn of Medicine. According to what records remain, he invented nearly all of the early treatments for disease and injury, some of which are still in use today.” The Director stared straight into the young doctor’s eyes. “Of course, compared to today’s medicine many of his methods may seem crude or simple, but there’s one thing that appears over and over in stories of him that even the finest scholars just can’t figure out; his reported ability to restore a pony from the brink of death in the blink of an eye.”
“Blink of an eye..?” Direct wondered. It certainly sounded like slowing down time, but even so, that did nothing to explain how he had done it.
Both ponies were silent for several moments, Direct mulling over what he’d learned and Doctor Healing working out the best way to continue. Finally, the elder stallion sighed. “It seems it would be easiest to simply tell you.” He locked eyes with Direct, ensuring he had his full attention. “The Alicorn of Medicine may be dead, but Asclepius is far from gone. His spirit lives on, held by one pony in each new generation and granting that pony access to a portion of his power. In my time I was the Holder of Asclepius, and it seems that mantle was passed to you.
“An Alicorn Holder’s destiny is entwined with the spirit he or she holds, from they day they are born to the day they part; usually at the Holder’s death. The Holder’s path in life is steered towards the Alicorn’s specialty, and in turn the Alicorn’s power helps the Holder excel in that field. This is the source of your special ability.”
Direct had been stunned by what he had learned. There was some kind of spirit living in him? Why had he never heard of this before? “So I’m a Holder? That’s why I can slow down time?”
“Essentially, yes,” Director Healing shrugged lightly before continuing “Thanks to Asclepius’s power you are capable of achieving supernatural levels of concentration, to the point that time seems to have slowed down. In my day I had that power as well, and named it the ‘Healing Touch.’” The Director finished with a faraway smile, reminiscing about his days as a world-class surgeon.
“‘Healing Touch?’” Direct tried the name out. It certainly seemed fitting after what he’d been able to do with it. “So you called it that because it helped you save patients you wouldn’t have been able to help normally?”
The Director rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, actually, when I was younger I named the ability after myself. But I think I like your reason better, so let’s go with that.” Revered Healing’s old eyes sparkled with all the excitement of a foal in a candy shop. “With the Healing Touch to help you, I have no doubt that you’ll become a top-notch surgeon, Direct. I’m quite certain you’ll leave a legacy that will put mine to shame.”
“Thank you, Director.” Direct smiled; the answers he had received may have been a bit much to take in – especially knowing that he had the power of a long-dead Alicorn at his disposal – but it also made him feel special, like he could handle anything. Still, one thing troubled him. “Uh, Director, you mentioned that the spirit only separates from the Holder at death, right? So, how are you, you know, not dead?”
Doctor Healing chuckled lightly. “I said ‘usually,’ not ‘only,’ Direct. I’m a sort of special case as far as Holders go. Most keep working in their respective fields as long as they live, but I retired from surgery long ago. When I did, Asclepius moved on to a new Holder; namely, you.”
“So, Asclepius can just move from pony to pony whenever he wants?” Direct asked, feeling that the Director’s response had created more questions than it had answered.
“I’m afraid knowledge on the functioning of ancient Alicorn magics used by a long-deceased, since-forgotten Alicorn doesn’t quite fall under my area of expertise,” the old doctor replied with a chuckle. “Though, if my old mind isn’t playing tricks on me,” he said thoughtfully, “Ponyville is home to a scholar of such things; a gifted unicorn who practically lives in the library, as I recall.”
“I’ll have to look into that,” Direct nodded, standing. “Thank you for telling me all of this, sir. You’ve given me a lot to think about, but it’s almost time for my next appointment, so I’d better be going.” Shaking hooves with the Director, he turned to leave.
Suddenly the old stallion’s smile disappeared and his gaze grew distant. He called out to the young doctor before he reached the door, “Just remember, Direct: the Healing Touch is a powerful tool, but you must never allow yourself to rely on it. Even once you learn to control it – and I can help you learn to control it – you cannot allow your other abilities as a surgeon to fall by the wayside. Keep yourself sharp, Direct. That is all I can ask of you.”
“I will, sir,” Direct promised solemnly.
Author's Note
I was kind of hoping to be out of the “short, boring exposition chapters” phase and back into the interesting/action-y parts by now, but at least I’ve finally made it through all of the explanation that needs to happen. At least until after next chapter
Questions, comments, criticisms and suggestions are all appreciated, and I’m happy to respond to any feedback. Until next time, thanks for reading!
Read on,
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion
Chapter Eleven: Killing with Kindness
Trauma Center: Equestrian Opinion Chapter Eleven: Killing with Kindness
Location: Ponyville Medical
“-nothing more strenuous than walking for at least a week, and you’ll have to rest often,” Doctor Styles recited clearly, reading through a mental checklist. “Stop by the receptionist’s desk on your way out to set up a follow-up appointment sometime between two weeks and a month from now, and you should be good to go.”
“Thank you so much, Doctor,” the wheelchair-bound Unicorn said with tears in his eyes. “I’ve been living with that pain for so long, and it’s finally gone.”
“I’m just glad we were able to fix it before it got any worse,” Direct said modestly. Nodding to the nurse standing behind his former patient, he waved goodbye as the nurse pushed the wheelchair out of his office. He heaved a sigh as the door shut behind them, rubbing his eyes and glancing at the clock. It was somewhere between late afternoon and early evening, and with his last patient rolling his way home, Direct was ready to call it a day. Unfortunately, he still had paperwork to fill out before he could.
Sighing again, he pulled the folder off of the top of the small stack of paperwork on his desk and got out a quill and ink. He paused, however, when he noticed the plain white envelope that had been sitting underneath the folder. It bore no markings that would indicate its sender or intended recipient, and curiosity led him to set aside his paperwork for the time being. Taking the envelope in his magic, he carefully broke the simple wax seal and removed the small piece of paper that laid within. It seemed to be a short letter, though it was not addressed to anypony. His curiosity changed to confusion, then to worry as he read.
What use have the peaceful for swords and spears? Yet for all of their divine benevolence, it is ponykind that is most feared among the world’s peoples, for their quiet smiles hide razor daggers and eternal chains.
“What the hay..?” he muttered to himself, turning the page over, looking for more. The short message hadn’t made any sense, but it had left him with a strange sense of foreboding. Before he could contemplate the letter any further, however, he heard the distinctive sound of somepony running down the hallway, followed closely by his office door flying open with a bang.
“Direct!” Angel stood in the doorway, looking disheveled after having run all the way there. “Doctor Stables needs you in the E.R., stat!”
The doctor knew that the head surgeon wouldn’t be asking for him without a good reason, so he began moving without a second thought, following his assistant back down the hallway at a near-gallop. Along the way, she explained that Doctor Stables had called for him specifically to help with an emergency patient that had just arrived.
“I didn’t get to hear much before he sent me to get you, but it sounded like she was in critical condition,” Angel added as they approached the Emergency Room in question. “I guess Doctor Stables thought it might be a good idea to have you and your ability at the ready.” After Direct’s meeting with the Director a few days prior, Doctor Stables and Angel had both been given the details of his Healing Touch, though it still remained a secret from the staff in general.
They quickly found the room, where they were greeted by Doctor Stables in his surgical scrubs. “You’re just in time,” he remarked, pointing them towards the changing rooms. “You two get ready as fast as you can. I’m going to start the operation.”
It was only a few minutes later when Doctor Styles emerged from the changing room, now sporting his own scrubs. The Emergency Room was set up much like the Operating Rooms he’d used before, but much larger with enough empty space and even spare machines to support a second patient at the same time. Doctor Styles approached the brown stallion at the operating table, who nodded to him before refocusing on his patient, a yellow Pegasus mare with a pink mane that covered most of her face. Doctor Stables had already performed an entry incision that revealed a hefty amount of internal bleeding centered over the mare’s right lung.
“Any idea where this is all coming from?” Direct asked, unable to see much through all the blood. Heavy bleeding usually implied injuries, but there hadn’t been so much as a mark on her body, nor did there seem to be any of the damage that would be expected from blunt force trauma.
“As improbable as it seems, she’s actually sporting a number of internal lacerations.” Doctor Stables shook his head in disbelief. After all, one did not simply get a cut on the inside of their body. “I’ve been patching them up, but there’s a lot of bleeding.” As he spoke, he accepted a drain from the nurse that was assisting him, using it to drain as much of the blood as he could. With the obscuring fluid out of the way, Direct could easily see a number of lacerations covering the surface of the lung, with even more already sutured shut. They were placed seemingly randomly across the upper half of the lung, some intersecting or nearly overlapping.
“But what could have caused them?” Angel asked from beside Direct, who jumped slightly in surprise, having not noticed her approach.
“Not a clue yet,” Doctor Stables said with a shake of his head. “But they do look very recent. She can’t have had any of these for more than an hour.” His brow furrowed in contemplation. “It’s certainly odd, but for now all we can do is patch this up and hope that when she wakes up she can tell us something.”
The operation proceeded smoothly, Doctor Stables suturing the lacerations with little trouble. It took a while to finish up due to the sheer number of them, but once the last suture was completed everypony was quite happy to call the operation a success.
“Glad we didn’t end up needing you after all, Direct,” Doctor Stables remarked as he finished bandaging up the incision. “Still, since you’re here, would you mind going out to the waiting room?” Gesturing to the unconscious patient, he continued, “She’s got a few friends out there who I’m sure would like to hear that she’s okay. I’ll finish things up here and come get you once she’s set up in Recovery.”
“Sure,” he replied simply, turning towards the door. “Come on, Angel. Let’s go.”
The E.R.’s waiting area was simple, if fairly comfortable compared to the rest of the hospital. For those waiting to hear about a friend or loved one, however, the couches and chairs may as well have been cold, hard stone for all the comfort they provided. Upon entering the room, Direct noted five mares in the room, who had all looked up the moment the door opened.
On one couch, Direct was only slightly surprised to see Pinkie Pie sitting next to a white Unicorn with a coiffed purple mane and tail who seemed to have been crying, based on her puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Nearby was a purple Unicorn whose purple mane had a magenta stripe through it. She had been poring over a large book, with a stack of similarly-sized tomes on either side of her. Sitting in the far corner, Direct spied a familiar-looking orange mare wearing a Stetson, who had been watching a blue Pegasus with a rainbow mane as she paced around the room impatiently.
He took in all of this over a few silent seconds before the room exploded with motion. Everypony jumped up and ran over to where he and Angel stood in the doorway, with the blue Pegasus actually flying across the twenty-foot gap between them and nearly tackling him before coming to a sudden stop inches from his face. His eardrums ached at the sudden chorus of “What happened to Fluttershy?” “Is Fluttershy okay?” “Can we see her now?”
By the time Direct recovered from the mares’ question barrage, he was glad to see that Angel had taken over. “Your friend is alright now. We’ve taken care of the problem, and you can go see her in a little while.” At her words, the group of mares relaxed slightly, backing away and letting the two of them properly enter the room.
After a moment, the white Unicorn spoke up, her voice a bit stuffy as she spoke through recent tears. “Please, can you tell us whatever happened to dear Fluttershy? One moment she was completely fine, and the next…” She was interrupted by a sniffle, and the others looked at her with compassion.
“Rarity was the only one there when Fluttershy collapsed,” The purple Unicorn explained, seeing that her friend wasn’t about to continue.
Rarity nodded with a sniff. “We were just getting tea together after our weekly spa trip. The waitress was quite rude and at first I thought she’d just been frightened; she’s such a dainty mare, you know. But then I saw the way she was clutching her chest…” Rarity trailed off sadly. “I just can’t imagine what the poor dear was going through.”
The purple Unicorn once again jumped on the silence. “So what was it? I’ve been looking through every book on diseases the Library has,” she gestured to the two large stacks of books, “but everything I’ve read indicates that there should have been some kind of sign long before it got this bad.”
Direct glanced nervously at Angel. Should they tell them that they had no clue what had happened? “Well, the thing is…” Direct started nervously.
Without warning, Pinkie began a short series of twitches, leaving everypony present waiting for her explanation. Well, everypony except Angel, who had no idea what was going on, having not yet seen the Pinkie Sense in action.
“Woah,” Pinkie remarked after a moment. “Never had that combination before.”
“A new combination?” the purple Unicorn asked with a strange combination of excitement and exasperation. “Do you know what it means?”
“Hush, Twilight. Pinkie’s on the case!” Following that exclamation, Pinkie sat silently for several moments with a hoof planted under her chin, eyes staring off into space as she thought. “I got it!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and pointing at the door behind Direct and Angel that led back into the hallway for the E.R. and Recovery rooms. “Something important is going to come through that door!”
“What are they talking about..?” Angel mumbled just loudly enough for Direct to hear. He could guess what this had to be like for her; he’d been in her situation once himself, and he knew from experience that the first time dealing with each of Pinkie’s many quirks was always strange.
“Just go along with it,” he muttered back, turning to face the door Pinkie had indicated. Considering what had happened the last time Pinkie’s Sense had given him a warning, he was prepared to do whatever Pinkie said.
After a moment, Angel followed suit, staring blankly at the door they had come through earlier. A few seconds later, the door burst open, a panicked-looking nurse nearly crashing into them as she ran into the room. “Doctor Styles! Nurse Temperament!” she exclaimed. “Hurry! You’re needed back in the E.R.!”
“What happened?” Direct asked, sparing a glance back at the worried-looking mares behind him. “Did the patient’s condition change?”
The nurse nodded emphatically. “Vitals and blood pressure are dropping quickly. We’re going to perform another operation, and Doctor Stables wants you two to perform it this time.”
Angel and Direct shared a worried but determined glance, then took off back down the hallway to prepare for surgery, leaving five very confused and worried mares behind.
By the time Direct and Angel had arrived and prepped for the operation, the yellow mare was back on the operating table, her bandages removed and the old entry incision laid bare. Doctor Stables stood behind the table, clad in a fresh set of scrubs. “Are you two ready?” he asked as they approached. Receiving a pair of nods in response, he gestured to the patient. “Her blood pressure and vitals started dropping while we were getting her set up in Recovery. I’m worried that some of the stitches may have come undone. I’m sure you both know the procedure, so let’s get started.”
Taking their places at the table, Doctor Styles and Nurse Temperament got right to work, reopening the incision from earlier. Blood covered the area again, so they started off with the drain. Once they had a clear view of the patient’s right lung, everypony’s jaws dropped. Every single laceration from before was still sutured shut. Instead, a number of new lacerations had opened up on the lower half of the lung. “How is that even possible?” Angel asked in amazement. It hadn’t even been half an hour since they’d closed her up the first time, yet she’d once again received seemingly-impossible internal lacerations.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Doctor Stables mumbled. “Keep your eyes peeled for anything odd, but for now all we can do is proceed with the operation.”
Taking the enchanted sutures in his magic, Doctor Styles did just that, beginning the process of sewing up the many wounds, occasionally draining blood to clear up his view or injecting stabilizer to keep the patient's vitals from dropping too low. Things went smoothly from there, but Direct, much like everypony else in the room, couldn’t help but be worried. They were completely in the dark about the cause of all of this.
The number of open wounds steadily shrank as the operation went on, and before too long, Direct was finishing up the last one. “That’s all of them,” Angel affirmed, her eyes trained on the vitals meter, which had stopped ticking down as the last of the lacerations was dealt with. “It looks like the operation was a success.” She spoke the words, but with no real conviction.
“Indeed,” Doctor Stables monotoned. The two doctors and one nurse shared looks of uncertainty; they all had the same sinking feeling that they hadn’t fixed the problem any more than they had with the first operation. Doctor Stables gave a defeated sigh. “I suppose we should-”
The doctor cut himself off as, before their very eyes, a new laceration tore itself open on the mare’s right lung, just above the ones they’d just been working on.
“What the hay!?” A stretching silence was broken by Direct’s shout as another new laceration opened up, shaking the doctors and nurse out of their stupor.
“What’s going on here?” Doctor Stables asked incredulously as a third laceration opened right in front of them.
"Doctor Styles!" Angel exclaimed, taking charge as an idea came to mind. "Try using the ultrasound spell to find whatever's doing this!
"Great idea, Angel," the Unicorn replied, charging up his horn. He pinged the area near the newest laceration, and immediately spotted a strange shadow moving through the organ. "Scalpel!" he shouted, thinking quickly. He pinged again in the direction the shadow had been moving and smirked as the spell hit it dead on. Taking the requested instrument it his magic, he brought it down right in front of the shadow, slicing through the lung and forcing the shadow to the surface.
The thing that he'd cut out was clearly alive, but beyond that none of them had any clue what it was. Its dark blue body was almost serpentine, sporting what could only be called bat wings on either side just behind its pointed head, with a short tail sticking out in the other direction. As soon as it emerged from within the lung, the creature gave a mighty flap of its wings, and flew across the surface of the lung, opening another new laceration in its wake. It came to a sudden stop after several inches, its wings flapping again as it rose up and changed direction, flying just above the surface in a slow, lazy arc.
"What is that thing?" Angel asked in mild disgust. The almost inch-long creature was grossly fascinating, and it took a moment for the three medical professionals to shake off their stupors.
"It looks like some kind of parasite," Doctor Stables remarked slowly, watching the creature fly in apparently random directions across the lung, "but it's unlike any I've ever seen."
"Whatever it is," Direct said with determination, "it's what's responsible for the patient's condition." As if to punctuate his point, the creature dove down to the surface of the lung and, with a powerful flap of its wings, tore another laceration across the heavily-damaged organ.
"Right," Angel responded thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should try to extract it alive? If it's a brand-new parasite..."
"We can try, but remember; our duty, first and foremost, is to save this patient," Doctor Stables admonished.
"Yes, sir." Direct assured, taking a pair of forceps from Angel. He carefully tracked the parasite's motion for a silent moment, then quickly drove the forceps downward. His aim was true, but at the last moment the parasite's wings snapped sideways, sending it into an aileron roll that expertly dodged the falling forceps and allowed it to leave another small laceration on the lung as it flew away safely.
"It's like it saw it coming," Doctor Stables mused as Direct tried again, with similar results.
"I don't think this is going to work," Direct grumbled in frustration as the parasite flew a tight circle around where he'd made his latest attempt. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was mocking me.
Angel nodded in resignation. "Since extraction of a living specimen seems counterproductive, we’ll have to just kill it. Maybe the laser?"
"It's worth a shot," Direct agreed. Taking the laser focus in his magic, he pointed it at the parasite. He channeled magic into the focus’s crystal for a moment before it came to life with a blue beam of energy directed right at the dark blue creature. Unable to dodge, it instead fell cleanly bisected to the surface of the lung, its own motion sending it straight through the laser. Surprised, Direct shut off the beam immediately.
“Well, that worked," Angel noted.
Doctor Stables nodded. “The parasite seems to have some kind of weakness to the high-energy beam. I’ll have to include a note with the sample.” Doctor Stables walked over to a small drawer and pulled out a petri dish, bringing it back to the table with him. Opening it up, he gestured at the dead parasite. “Direct, if you please.”
Direct shook off his surprise and took up the forceps, extracting the two cauterized halves of the parasite and setting them in the dish. “Glad that’s taken care of,” he said, relaxing a bit as Doctor Stables sealed up the dish and set it aside. Turning back to the operating table, Direct eyed the new myriad of wounds his patient had collected during their confrontation with the parasite. “Now, let’s finish up here. Sutures.” Taking the offered implement in his magic, he once again began the process of suturing lacerations.
Thankfully, there weren’t nearly as many this time, and a few were small enough to be sealed up with just a dab of Antibiotic Gel. In only a few minutes’ time, he was moving to the last of the lacerations, victorious, if tired, grins present on everypony’s faces.
Right up until a new pair of red lines appeared, one of them slicing right through the sutures tying a different laceration closed.
“More of them!?” Direct’s tone was some combination of incredulous and angry.
“It just couldn’t be that easy, could it?” Angel shook her head in exasperation.
Setting aside their feelings after a moment, the two got right to work, Direct pinging the lung with an ultrasound spell while Angel prepared a scalpel and the laser. Before long, Direct locked onto one of the parasite’s shadows with his spell, and quickly cut it out with the scalpel. Like the first one had, this parasite also dove down to create a new laceration as it was brought to the surface. Almost immediately after it did so, the other one did the same from within the organ, giving Direct an easy target to lock onto, and the second parasite was soon joined on the lung’s surface by the third. With both parasites out in the open, Direct took the laser focus from Angel.
The beam of concentrated magic bore straight through one parasite, and it tumbled gracelessly to the surface. The other followed shortly, its head and wing severed as it tried vainly to avoid the laser. Once again Direct had to marvel at the tool's efficiency in dealing with the parasites as he retrieved their remains with the forceps and deposited them in another petri dish.
"Hopefully there's enough here for the lab techs to get some answers," Doctor Stables said as he sealed up the second dish, placing it next to the first. Meanwhile, Direct was once again closing up lacerations, noting that their supply of suture thread was starting to run low.
"How much you want to bet there's another one?" Angel half-joked as the enchanted suture needle tied up the last laceration.
Direct grimaced. "I don't even want to think-" he cut himself off as three more lacerations appeared in quick succession, forming an asterisk in the center of the lung. "You just had to say it, didn’t you?" Direct sighed.
"Three this time?" Angel wondered, ignoring Direct’s remark. "I wonder why they didn't all come out at once instead..." Angel shook her head, shelving her curiosity for the moment. "At least we already know the drill. Let's take care of them!"
"Found one!" Direct called out moments later, only to blink in confusion. There was something a bit off about that shadow he'd caught the edge of. "At least I think so." Taking the scalpel in his magic, he pinged again where he thought it would be, but there was nothing. "I could have sworn..." Squinting, Direct pinged around for a few moments before another laceration appeared well away from where he'd been looking, causing him to change focus. He picked up a strangely large shadow almost immediately, and wasted no time in cutting it out.
"What the!?" What appeared on the surface was different than the parasites they'd dealt with so far. While the others had been dark blue and only about an inch long, this one was light blue and nearly three times the size. "Why is it so big?" was all Angel could think to say as the parasite dove down, creating yet another laceration.
"This one must be older than the others," Doctor Stables speculated. "Matured, if you will. Be careful; it may be much stronger than the others."
"With any luck, our treatment should still work," Direct added hopefully. "Let's give it a shot." Taking the laser focus again, he aimed it at the large parasite and activated the beam.
The effect was immediate, but not nearly as drastic as it had been on the others. The parasite jerked away from the beam, carving a crooked line of black, dead tissue along its back before it escaped. Before Direct could react beyond shutting down the laser, the large parasite flashed a pair of claw-like appendages and cut open a small hole below it, diving back into the safety of the lung. "This one must be more resistant than the others," Doctor Stables noted.
"But not completely," Direct countered, charging up his ultrasound spell once more. "It was still hurt. A few more doses should be able to finish it off." A few quick pings were enough to spot the shadow this time, and moments later it was back on the surface. The parasite performed its typical dive right after, but stopped short and flew off, leaving only a small cut instead of the long lacerations it and the others had been doing.
"Doctor," Angel spoke softly, eyes wide in realization, "I think it's actually injured. Look at the way it's flying." True enough, the parasite flew jerkily, seeming to favor the side with most of the laser burns. An idea came to her, and she gasped and turned to Direct. "What if," she said, already feeling a bit crazy for what she was about to suggest. "What if we just crippled it? We might be able to extract it alive if we, well," her feathers ruffled a bit as she paused, "if we cut off its wings." She winced in instinctive empathy, phantom pains running through the base of her own wings.
"A live sample would help with the research," Doctor Stables affirmed. "I say go for it."
"Okay then," Direct agreed, casting a worried glance at Angel. She still seemed a bit uncomfortable about this, but there were more pressing matters to deal with. Direct aimed the laser carefully and fired, burning right through its right wing. The now-useless limb flopped to the surface right beside the parasite itself, which twisted and jerked erratically. Direct quickly snatched up the wing and deposited it in a third petri dish, but as he moved to grab the parasite itself, its claws struck out again, opening a new hole for it to duck into.
Pinging the lung with his ultrasound spell, Direct immediately found the shadow slowly inching away from the hole it had created. It didn't get far before he forced it back to the surface again, where it flailed around in confusion for a few moments before its claws sank into the surface, pulling it along in a pitiful crawl. Without a word, Direct grabbed the parasite up in the forceps and placed it beside its severed wing in the dish. The moment the parasite touched down on the cool plastic surface, it stopped struggling, and remained unmoving as Doctor Stables sealed up the dish and set it aside.
"We're done for real this time, right?" Direct yawned, eyeing their dwindling reserves of suture thread and stabilizer.
"Only one way to find out," Angel murmured with a glance at the motionless parasite.
This time no further lacerations appeared as they cleaned up the last one, though they waited for several minutes before closing the patient up just to be sure. Direct used up the very last of their suture thread closing the entry incision, and all three medical ponies shared a sigh of relief once he finished securing a bandage over the wound.
"Excellent work, you two." Doctor Stables praised, gathering up the petri dishes and jotting down a few notes to go with them. "I'll make sure to let you both know when we find something out about these. In the meantime, get the patient set up in a ward; she's going to have a long, hard recovery from all of that internal damage, and the lab techs will probably want to have her on hoof for tests anyway."
"Of course, sir." Angel nodded, already preparing to do just that. "Come on, Direct," she said, flashing him a tired smile as she set up a gurney to move the yellow Pegasus on. "Let's get her set up quickly. There are five mares out there who have been waiting way too long to see her."
Five mares gathered around a hospital bed as the yellow Pegasus began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open, and were immediately met by the wide-eyed stares of her friends, who wasted no time in barraging her with questions. Fluttershy shrunk back into the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover the lower half of her face. Moments later, the questions ceased as Angel told the mares off, telling them that Fluttershy would probably have a hard time understanding them right now due to how long she’d been out. Predictably, the questions started right back up again, now aimed at the nurse.
Direct watched this all with a grin from his place by the room’s monitors. This room was a smaller, individual one with only one bed and one set of instruments. It was meant for long-term patients who, for one reason or another, couldn’t be placed in a room with others. One wall held a small bookshelf below a window, light streaming through the cracks between the drawn blinds. The room held the same color scheme as the other wards, but a much larger variety of medical instruments. Currently Direct was taking notes from one that measured the patient’s breathing patterns. As he’d feared, the massive damage to Fluttershy’s lung had resulted in very shaky breathing, and he could imagine that it was likely painful for her, even despite the painkillers they’d administered before she’d woken up.
When he glanced back to the group of mares, Direct found the five of them in the midst of a gentle group hug with their bed-bound friend. He could hear gentle reassurances emanating from the mass of pony, and found himself smiling despite it all. It didn’t matter that one of them had nearly died that day; if anything, that only made their bond stronger. Bonds like that were the kind that moved mountains.
Location: Everfree Caves
“Did you complete the mission?” The voice echoed sickeningly around the mostly-empty chamber. A pair of small stone doors on either side of the room were the only artificial markings to be seen, the rest of the room decorated in stalactites, stalagmites and a generous coating of moss.
A young mare, still dressed in a waitress’s uniform, shifted in place, her eyes looking everywhere except at the being that stood before her. “Well, yes and no, Mother,” she finally admitted. “The mission went exactly as planned, except for one, tiny detail.”
“What detail, child?” the Mother asked, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice.
The mare winced. “The… weakest link was not removed, Mother. As we thought might happen, others interfered with Nature's way.”
The Mother glared, but said nothing, momentarily lost in thought. From behind her, a long, loud groan came through the door, shaking her out of her thoughts. Her expression became pensive as she considered. “Yes, my dear, that is true. Though this may be a setback, our mission has not yet failed.” Another, shorter groan followed a pause, and the mother’s face showed twisted glee.
“Daughter!” she snapped, causing the mare to jump. “Collect a new team and prepare for another mission.” The mare nodded and dashed off through the door behind her.
“They have denied Nature’s way by protecting the weakest link,” the Mother mumbled to herself with a wicked grin, “so we shall show them the strength of our conviction by breaking their strongest.”
Author's Note
This one took a ~~little~~ lot longer to finish than I’d hoped it would, but hopefully the results are worth the wait. It was kind of hard getting back into the swing of writing an operation chapter after the last three pure-exposition chapters.
This chapter has been one that I’ve both looked forward to and dreaded writing. The stage has now been set for the main part of the story, and there was a lot riding on me pulling this off well. Only time ~~and reader feedback~~
As always, questions, comments, criticisms and suggestions are all appreciated, and I’m happy to respond to any feedback. Until next time, thanks for reading!
Read on,
