Chapter Text
Healer #185.
The silver badge stares back at you, glinting at you like a pair of watchful eyes. You can imagine the weight of it on your chest, the weight of everything it carries. With slightly clammy hands you ensure your fresh set of scrubs are folded properly on your chair. The Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center Welcome Handbook lays spread open on your pillow, you had spent the last few hours pouring over every page in preparation for tomorrow.
It was your duty they had instilled in you, your duty to help change the world and save countless lives. Not that you had much choice in the matter, it was this or....
This was your only chance at a life with safe guards in place to give you some semblance of freedom. After all there were plenty of people out there desperate enough to try and take you or scared enough of what you were capable of to hurt you. The ability that flows through your veins is God given some said, or magic, or an unnatural mutation others claimed. All you knew is that it had changed the course of your life. But now was not the time to go down that rabbit hole. With a full bodied sigh you stumble into bed and force yourself into a deep sleep.
PTMC
By the time Dr. Michael Robinavitch had become an attending at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center he’d thought he’d seen the height of medical advancements of his time. He and the rest of the world hadn’t anticipated a power that would upend and put to question everything they thought they knew. Slowly they had emerged, the rare few who had the ability to heal others through touch alone. It didn’t take long for the government and scientific community to take oversight of them. He still remembers the first news reports and stories of them being kidnapped for their abilities, tortured and even killed in the process. The Nightingale Healer Program was soon created and through that they were trained to eventually go out to hospitals around the country. This was the reason why he was currently sitting in a packed conference room at seven in the morning.
Robby stared up at the stark white ceiling, counting down the seconds in his head before he could flee from the tenth floor conference room. Several other attendings and department heads sat around him sipping on lukewarm coffee and scarfing down free donuts provided by their generous Chief Medical Officer.
“We won the lottery.”
When he looks to the head of the table, Gloria stands there with a grin so wide it makes him uncomfortable. She’s practically shaking with excitement.
“What lottery?” he asks out loud. Snickers fill the air.
“The National Healer Lottery,” Dr. Jack Abbot clarified before stuffing a chocolate donut in his mouth.
“We're the first public hospital in the state to receive one. This is going to completely revolutionize our hospital,” Gloria announced, the wheels in her head spinning with a million different ideas.
Everyone has already begun whispering among themselves, stunned at this announcement. For an already under funded hospital like this one to receive a Healer was unheard of. Healers themselves were rare.
“Do we have any information on this Healer?” someone inquires.
Gloria picks up a folder and begins to flip through it. “All I am allowed to share is that she has received all of the proper training and is here today. For security reasons we were not allowed to pre announce her arrival before today. A hospital wide email has been sent out with some guidelines provided by the Healer Program,” she explains.
“She’s going to be assigned to Surgery right?” Dr. Walsh raises her eyebrow.
“No fucking way Walsh- we’re going to use her in the ICU-.”
Suddenly the room is in an uproar, everyone talking over one another trying to convince Gloria why their department needed the Healer the most.
“Quiet! The Board has already decided,” Gloria snaps everyone into silence. “This Healer will be assigned to the ED. It’s the department that’s hurting the most and is receiving the most critical patients first,” she is now facing Robby directly.
At this news he sits up straight. “Uh- that isn’t necessary-,” Robby is unable to stop the uncertainty in his voice.
“It is,” Gloria leaves no room for argument. “Now that I actually have your attention Dr. Robinavitch, maybe you’ll be able to memorize these important rules and guidelines. It will be up to you to make sure everyone follows them.”
Robby gulps. There goes any hope of an easy day.
A few hours later he’s finally released, his mind whirling with the rules and regulations he was forced to learn. His large hands come to rub over his face as he makes his way down to the Pitt. The ride down the elevator gives him little time to process so he forces himself to square his shoulders as the doors slide open. He finds a strange comfort in the controlled chaos that greets him, smiling softly at everyone that he passes.
“McKay, Mohan, Collins,” Robby calls them over to the only quiet corner of the Pitt. They quickly dash over, anticipation written all over their faces.
“I’m sure you received the email from Gloria-.”
“The whole hospital did, everyone’s talking about it-,” Cassie begins.
“I’m also sure you read through the very important information. You’re my senior residents, you’ll help lead the team during this transition and help make sure she feels welcome and comfortable. Everyone will be following our lead.”
“Do we know when she’s going to get here?” Samira asks, looking around with wide eyes.
“I already heard Walsh and Garcia making a big stink about it. They can’t believe we get to keep her,” Cassie snickers, hands coming to rest on her stethoscope casually.
“She’s not a pet or something to keep. She’s a person. A very gifted person but we have to remember they have boundaries and rules,” Robby looks them straight in the eye and makes sure he gets a nod from each of them.
“If we scare her out of here Gloria will never forget it,” Samira shudders.
“Or forgive us,” Heather adds in, her eyes catching sight of their highly anticipated guest. “Well team I think our Healer has arrived,” Heather smiles and they all follow her gaze over to the elevator.
Dressed in pastel yellow you’re hard to miss in the sea of dark colored scrubs. The first thing Robby notices are the white gloves on your hands that rest at your sides. Your hair is tied back with a white bandana like the nurses of old, revealing your youthful features and he’s momentarily stunned by the intensity of your eyes. You were in your late twenties if he had to guess but you looked as if you had experienced lifetimes already. Slowly you shuffle forward towards them, recognizing his face from the Welcome Packet. He’s tall, amazingly so and his brown eyes are warm and lined with crows feet. Melancholy swims in his eyes, the same way it paints your own features.
“Hello, I’m Healer 185. Level Three Healer In Training.”
There’s a resigned tone to your voice, that Robby catches.
“Level Three huh? Out of what?” Cassie tilts her head in question, her tone verging on impertinence. She wasn’t jumping up and down at the prospect of you being here, it was clear.
Your response was automatic as if reading from a manual, face remaining serious. “Level One Healers can heal themselves. Level Two can heal others minor injuries. Level Three heals intermediate to major injuries. Level Four can heal critical injuries. Level Five can bring back someone from the brink of death. Very rarely is a full resuscitation from death possible. Only a few recorded in the country. Those Healers are reserved for military and government use only.”
Cassie's mouth drops open but she quickly shuts it, taking a step back.
“Welcome to the PTMC, I’m Heather. We’re very excited to have you here,” Heather intervenes in her usual gracious manner. Your mouth finally twists into a smile but its full of apprehensiveness.
“Is this your first posting?” Samira asks gently.
“Yes this is my first hospital posting. As a Level Two I was kept at the training facility and then trained at small outpatient clinics.”
“Well this will be very different from what you’re used to. I’m Dr. Robinavitch but you can call me Dr. Robby like everyone else,” Robby catches Dana’s eye and waves her over discreetly.
“Ready to start?” Dana waltzes over, eyes glittering with curiosity. For a moment she reminds you of your old mentor and you feel at ease in her presence.
“As part of my integration I shadow for a few days. I start with the minor injuries and general consultations. It’s so that the team can get used to me. Then after that I can work my way up to traumas,” you explain, glancing down at your gloved hands.
“C’mon kiddo I’ll give you a tour then you’ll start with Collins,” Dana’s arm hovers over your shoulder and she gives you a reassuring smile before leading you off into the depths of the Pitt. When you glance over your shoulder everyone else has dispersed except for Dr. Robby, he locks eyes with you and you feel an electric shock go up your spine. You immediately break eye contact and attempt to focus on Dana’s words.
That first day you don't touch anyone, your gloves remaining clean, simply observing the intense energy and flow of the ED. All of your training couldn’t have prepared you for the wailing sirens every few minutes, the shouted orders, the constant wave of patients that seemed to never end. It was also a chance to see how the doctors and staff worked, the way they interacted. It quickly became clear why Dr. Robby was senior attending, through his dry wit was years of knowledge and skill that served his patients greatly.
Contemplating all of this you stared down at the blood stained linoleum of Trauma One having just witnessed a patient with a gunshot wound to the stomach get stabilized before being whisked away to life saving surgery. You can still remember feeling his weakness even as you stood at the far end of the room, his life force draining away. Your eyes were trained on a glob of blood that moved along with the movement of your foot when a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Healer 185!”
Looking up you see a woman dressed in the latest Ann Taylor suit making her way towards you with a pinched smile. She stops behind the Trauma room doors intent on not walking in, leaving you no option but to step out and meet her.
“Gloria Underwood, Chief Medical Officer, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she introduces herself.
“Nice to meet you,” you reply, tucking your gloved hands behind your back.
Robby stands at the nurses station, unable to tear his eyes away from the interaction having seen Gloria since she first stepped foot out of the elevator.
“I hope your first day has been productive,” she fails at sounding encouraging.
“It’s certainly been eye opening.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise and for the first time she notices a distinct lack of blood and bodily fluids on your scrubs. “You haven’t healed anyone today?” Her tone is almost incredulous.
“Not for the first few days ma’am. That’s protocol. If you have any concerns you can reach out to Healer 41, he is the head of my department.”
Gloria’s eye twitches. “Well I hope once you do what you were brought here to do, you can improve the wait times and patient outcomes of this department.”
“That’s the hope,” is all you can muster. You were used to the way people spoke about you and towards you. You were just a resource, an incredibly important and rare resource they were desperate to use. Gloria says nothing, simply turning on her heel and focusing on her new target.
“Fancy seeing you here-,” Robby tries his usual sarcasm but it's no use, Gloria means business as she gives him a simple warning
“Get her up and running as soon as you can, Robinavitch. The future of the ED and everyone’s jobs depends on it.”
Robby can’t help the scoff that leaves his lips, Gloria hadn’t been the first to treat you so coldly today. Cassie had made her feelings for you clear right away and several nurses had looked at you as if you had something contagious. With a determined look in his eye Robby picks up the phone and sighs.
It’s only five in the afternoon when your shift ends, and the only people to bid you a hurried goodbye are Heather and Dana. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder you start to head towards the elevator when someone calls out your name. You freeze, turning slowly until you’re forced to look up at Dr. Robby who seems a bit out of breath. In his hand there’s a badge with your face on it, fresh from Human Resources.
“What’s this?”
“What’s it look like? It’s your PTMC badge,” Robby laughs, hands coming up to pin it under your government issued Healer Badge. He doesn’t seem at all uneasy at the close contact to you like others had been today.
“It has my first name.”
“Of course it does. We can’t go around just calling you Healer 185 forever.”
An unreadable emotion passes over your face but quickly as Robby notices it, you return to a neutral expression.
“Um thank you Dr. Robinavitch. I- no one refers to us by our names in the program.”
Easier to think of us as healing machines and not people.
“I think it’ll help you feel a part of the team and it’ll help the team see you as one of us too.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” is all you can manage.
Robby senses how uncomfortable you are and attempts to switch the subject.
“Hey, any plans tonight? Must have someone waiting at home or friends to party all night with,” he grins.
It’s like you’ve been pinched, you visibly flinch as you process the personal question. You appreciate his attempt at kindness but you can’t stop the sad smile that appears.
“Good day Dr. Robby.”
You don’t stay long enough to hear his reply.