dangerously ↝ a. hotchner

t w e n t y - f o u r

Ana was quietly going through some charts of previous patients — making sure everything was in order as what not. She was writing an article on her AIWS patient and went from double checking that patients file to all her patients files. Needless to say, it was taking her a long time. She wasn't even a third of the way through when Charlotte burst into her office — she obviously hadn't heard about the concept of knocking, not that Ana minded.

"Trent Davis is out of surgery. He's sleeping now but Dr Woods wanted you to come by in an hour when he's awake." Charlotte told her. Dr Woods, the trauma surgeon.

Ana's thoughts were interrupted by Charlotte sitting opposite her. This could mean one of two things. 1. She was trying to swindle gossip out of Ana or 2. She had gossip she'd swindled out of someone else and was going to share it with Ana.

"You will never guess what I found out." She said excitedly. So it was number two. Ana made herself as comfortable as she could in her office chair, they were going to be here a while.

"Oliver Jameson?" Ana asked.

Charlotte nodded, "He owns Orange Pharmaceutical's. The usual deal. He's rich, arrogant, and thinks he can do anything with his money. Upside is, he's giving one hundred million to this hospital to fund research — hence the chairman of the board position."

Ana frowned as she listened to Charlotte. Men with money think they can get whatever they want. Which means this hospital is going to be drowned in nasty politics as soon as a doctor goes against something the chairman wants.

"He's not married, no kids, his mother suffered from Alzheimer's and sadly died last year. A large portion of the money is going to our neurology wing. We all know how that's going to turn out." Charlie carried on.

Ana nodded, "Man thinks money can cure Alzheimer's. Finds out that no matter how much money he gives, the cure is probably decades away from being discovered. Man stops giving money."

"Exactly. I wonder how long it's going to take? Wanna bet?" Charlotte asked, a sickeningly sweet smile forming on her face.

Ana narrowed her eyes at her secretary, "You already have a bet going, don't you?" Charlotte's face grew a slight tinge of pink and Ana chuckled. "How many people?"

"Uhm, maybe thirty?"

"Charlotte!" Ana laughed. "You can't- if he finds out, he'll get you fired!"

"That's the beauty of it. He won't." She grinned.

Ana shook her head, focusing back on her files and the half written article sitting on her laptop. Writing that did not excite her.

Charlotte rapped her knuckles against Ana's desk and stood up, "Forty five minutes. Don't be late." She sung out, waltzing out of the office.

Forty five minutes later, Ana made it to the ward where Trent Davis was being kept post-op.

"Dr Pierce." The surgical resident from earlier walked towards her. "He's still a little groggy, but he can talk. I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you." Ana smiled at the young resident and walked inside the room. She took in the sight of Trent, lying still on the hospital bed, a stump at the bottom of his leg where his foot used to be. "Hey Trent, you remember me?"

He nodded, swallowing thickly. "I uh, don't remember your name."

"It's Doctor Pierce." She smiled gently down at him and took a seat next to his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. I don't have a foot though." His voice sounded strained and she noticed him try to blink back tears. "What's wrong with me?" His voice wobbled as the tears streaked down his cheeks.