Chapter Text
The casino was bustling with life, as usual. Oh Myung Sim slowly walked through the alleys filled with people, trying her best not to engage in eye contact for too long with anyone around. She was too tired for any interaction and not in the mood for drunken quarrels.
Finally, she managed to reach the bar unbothered; one empty chair seemed to have been waiting for her arrival, inviting her to take a seat and finally rest after this long, tiring day.
“Scotch, please,” she quickly ordered and basically collapsed onto the chair.
The day had been awful. Just as the day before, and the one before that. They had all been exactly the same, with exactly the same level of frustration, desperation and helplessness. Doldam Hospital, her workplace, was slowly but steadily driving her insane.
It wasn’t the hospital per se, however; the location of the place ensured an abundant supply of patients every single day, not to mention Fridays when they should have been brimming with people. The casino and the proximity of major roads meant a plenitude of trauma patients, patients they should have been saving, or at least trying to.
Why were they not, then?
The answer, even though simple, hurt just the same every single day. They were severely understaffed - nothing more than that. And the staff they already had… Well. After their main surgeon left, being scouted out by a major hospital that offered much more money and fame he could have never found in a rural area, the only one they had been left with was Doctor Song. Doctor Song, with no ambition, no skills, no interest in his patients. Myung Sim mostly spent her time around him wondering why on Earth had he become a doctor - someone so selfish, so focused on his own self-interest, so lacking in empathy. Him being the only surgeon they had at their disposal made it almost impossible to operate as they should have. Patients were either sent away because he didn’t have time or patience for them, or they couldn’t be saved due to his incompetence. It hurt on so many different levels Myung Sim didn’t even know how to describe it. She had become a nurse to help people, to bring them comfort and assistance in their time of need. She hadn't done that to watch them wither away because they had no decent doctor to save them. Actually… she started to believe she could do better at treating them than the doctor himself.
Every attempt at getting another surgeon had gone to nought as absolutely no one was interested in working in some god-forsaken hospital gods know where. No one, neither young nor old, wanted to sacrifice their lives for the bigger case just for the case itself.
And so, Myung Sim had two options to choose from - leave the hospital to find a better place for herself and risk it falling apart entirely without her or stay, eternally suffering but ensuring it goes on.
What kind of choice was that?
She sighed, grateful for the glass of yellow liquid that appeared in front of her. Evenings at the casino were her morbid way of relaxing while suffocating herself some more. She liked watching the people around her, wondering which one of them would get treated at Doldam and which one would get sent away; and if they made it there, which one would survive? The regular who was an alcohol addict and had severe oesophagal varices, threatening to rupture at any given point? The gangster who liked to get stabbed from time to time? The bodyguard who, sooner or later, will get shot with the gun he was carrying?
The game of guessing while sipping on her alcohol both helped her not go insane and made her feel even worse. Oh, how she wished they could accept all of them and save them as every patient deserved…
Feeling the burden of her reality slowly overwhelm her, she started skipping the area, as she usually did. She knew some faces by heart already - they were coming here day by day, trying to make a living by winning, or rather by losing. The casino had its own microclimate that didn’t change depending on the day or weather outside; they were bound to come.
She noticed some new faces in an instant - a young woman probably brought here by her date, her expression saying she did not want to be here in the slightest; an ajumma, shouting at a group of men playing poker; lastly, a man around her age, sitting in the dark corner alone and sipping on his whisky, just like her.
It was him who caught her attention the most - his aura didn’t fit this place. He was dressed all in black, focused on his glass, brooding and not interested in anything happening around him. From the distance, she couldn’t quite distinguish his features; his hair was as black as his clothes, his gaze insistent…
Myung Sim almost startled as their eyes met, his face turned towards her for her to see. She kept his gaze, scrutinizing him at the same time - undeniably, he had some charm to him. Somehow, she couldn’t categorize him into her guessing game: however she looked, he didn’t seem to be a patient.
People went in between them, severing their connection. When the path cleared, he was no longer looking at her, much to her sudden disappointment. His attention returned to his glass and so she was forced to do the same, not without stealing a glance at his direction from time to time, however. It wasn't polite to stare, surely, but she wasn't in a state of mind to care about such things.
Two glasses later, the casino became even busier. The time was near for the most hectic hour of the business, the hour when the most money and reason were being lost.
Almost like on the clock, a sudden commotion arose at the entrance to the main room, raised voices filling the air. Myung Sim turned around, trying to see what exactly was going on. It seemed like a quarrel about a game between a few young men which threatened to turn physical. The security guards tried to keep them apart but the discussion grew more heated and soon the youngsters engaged in a fight for their lives.
Since there was no one around to save them, hopefully they won’t end up in a medical emergency…
"Is there a doctor here?"
It took a minute, maybe two; Myung Sim sighed, looking around the people to see if anyone reacted. She gave them thirty seconds before standing up, knowing she might be the man's last hope.
She didn't manage to announce her help, however, as there was suddenly a hand on her wrist, keeping her in place.
"What are you doing?” The voice was harsh, her eyes widening as she looked up to see who it was.
The mystery man, holding her wrist in an iron grasp and looking at her with a stern expression. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her mind - it was surely the alcohol speaking to her as she was suddenly stricken by a stream of peculiar thoughts, all revolving around the fact he turned out to be very fine looking.
“Are you going to ruin both yours and the patient’s life?”
The clouds secluding her mind finally cleared, letting her think.
“What are you talking about?” She freed her wrist easily and looked at him with growing anger. Even if she was intrigued, she wouldn’t let anyone be disrespectful towards her.
“You’ve been drinking,” he said matter-of-factly, scrutinizing her from head to toe.
Oh. She couldn’t deny that.
“Should I just let him die then?” The situation was far from ideal, obviously, but if it was either her or no one… The patient’s life was always worth taking the risk.
“I’ll do that.”
She blinked again, mentally praising herself for guessing right he did not fit Doldam as a patient.
“Are you a doctor?”
His expression changed for a moment, a shadow rushing through his face.
“A failed one.”
There was no time to ask what he meant even though her interest was over the roof.
“You’ve been drinking as well,” she noticed instead. “Won’t it ruin your life?”
“My life is ruined either way, there’s nothing more to break. And the patient’s life is worth more than that.”
She got momentarily stunned as he basically voiced her prior thoughts, but quickly managed to collect herself.
“I’ll assist you then.”
He gazed at her for a moment before nodding and without further delay turning to the place of emergency.
She followed him as he walked through the crowd, people stepping back to make a way. Once there, they found a man lying on the ground, desperately trying to catch his breath, his skin slowly turning blue from lack of oxygen. It didn't look like a penetrating wound, no blood around him on the floor; blunt trauma, then?
"Are you a doctor?" The security guard asked, his voice panicked.
"Yeah." The mystery man took down his jacket, threw it carelessly onto the floor, loosened his shirt and knelt next to the man on the floor. "What happened?"
"W-we had a little fight a-and he… he collapsed and said he can't breathe," another man apparently taking part in the fight stuttered; his face was bloodied, red stream flowing down his chin from his nose.
The doctor nodded before ripping the victim's shirt open in one swift move, the buttons scattering in every direction and rolling down the floor.
"Could you bring us the first aid kit and AED?" Myung Sim asked the security guard, the man nodding and quickly running away.
The examination began in the meantime, the doctor scrutinizing the victim's chest, first with his eyes, then with palpation. He proceeded with percussion, Myung Sim holding her breath like it could help him hear better.
It definitely didn't, people around them loudly exchanging their opinions on the situation.
"Could you all shut up?" The mystery man's voice rang through the crowd with surprising power and even though some people gasped in indignation and muttered something about impertinence it seemed to work, the sudden stillness being almost uncomfortable.
In the silence of the room, the hyper-resonant sound could be clearly heard.
"Tension pneumothorax?" Myung Sim noticed the security guard being back with the kit and urged him to pass it to her. She quickly opened it and started searching for a needle they might use to remove the air from the patient's chest, finding it quickly despite the mess someone had left the emergency kit in.
"Yes. I'd need…" The doctor turned to her, blinking in surprise as he noticed her already handing him all the necessary supplies. He looked up at her and then back at the materials, quickly getting over his initial shock. "Thank you."
She nodded, moving closer to help him disinfect the proper place. He located the second intercostal space, took the needle and after she wiped the area he carefully inserted it along the upper margin of the third rib. Myung Sim herself stopped breathing, waiting for the hiss of air; based on the complete silence around them, she wasn't the only one.
Finally, the hiss could be heard loud and clear, the patient taking in a raspy breath. The majority of the crowd gasped in relief, some even started clapping their hands.
"Is the ambulance coming?" The doctor asked the guard while Myung Sim carefully secured the needle so it wouldn't fall out.
"Yes, they are on their way."
"Good. It should keep him stable long enough to reach a hospital."
He looked back at Myung Sim who couldn't help but smile. It had been a while since the last time she had an easy, satisfying saving.
"Good work," she said, from the flicker in his eyes guessing that his feelings might be similar.
"You too."
While they were watching over the patient until the ambulance arrived a lot of thoughts ran through Myung Sim's head. Tension pneumothorax was a basic emergency, not difficult to diagnose with proper information and good physical examination, and not particularly complicated to treat. And yet… there was something in this man that made her more than intrigued.
The swiftness with which he got right to the problem. The authority he induced when he had ordered the crowd to keep quiet. The dexterity of his fingers.
Whenever they weren't checking on the patient's condition she was observing him closely, taking in all the little details she hadn't noticed from the distance. He seemed very absorbed with their patient, an aura of professionalism strong around him. Dark circles underneath his eyes betrayed a lack of sleep and probably a troubled life, which matched his words from before.
My life is ruined either way, there’s nothing more to break.
What had he meant? What had happened to his career or life in general?
Whatever it was, a long-forgotten flicker of hope started burning in Myung Sim's heart. Hope for things to finally change.
When the paramedics finally arrived and the patient was successfully transferred into their care, the mysterious doctor picked up his abandoned jacket, swiped some dust off it and walked back to his seat like nothing had happened.
Myung Sim decided to take her chances. She followed him, her heart beating in her throat.
"Excuse me," she said loudly, making him stop and look back at her, question in his eyes. "Aren't you maybe looking for a job?"