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JULY 17, 2026 : 7:30 AM
It’s not everyday that the Emergency Department gets a slow and quiet shift. Today was one of those days— the usual frantic footsteps, blaring monitors, and rushed voices were replaced by an unfamiliar silence that hung heavily in the air.
The perfect quiet everyone needed, but refused to say. Partly because of the unspoken rule of not saying “Quiet” in the ER, but you get the gist.
The majority of the ED took the opportunity to breathe, others got some charting done. Dana and Emma chatted quietly by the station, while Javadi and Whittaker debated on what kind of coffee was superior. Of course you can never control the fact that they would still be a bit busy, but the majority of which were just simple coughs and colds, a game of tag gone wrong, food poisoning, but nothing urgent enough to shatter the rare calm.
***
Trinity stared at her computer screen, absentmindedly tapping her pen on the table as the half-finished chart stared right back at her. She let her eyes linger to Huckleberry and Crash, who were still debating over their coffee addiction.
“Okay, but you do know that a nice dirty matcha latte is still the superior choice over… that.” Javadi stared at Whittaker’s hot americano. “I'll let you know that this is an acquired taste, Doctor Javadi.” He slightly shakes the drink in front of her as Javadi frowns in disgust. Trinity stares at the drink in his hand and sighs. “You know Huckleberry, if I had the same farm benefits you have I would make use of that milking machine.” She smirks smugly as she stares back at Javadi who was already laughing. “I already told you! She’s just a friend.” Santos stares back at him. “Mhm. No one here in the ED believes that.”
Whittaker scoffs rolling his eyes. “You both are just jealous that I have the finest ground coffee that makes the perfect americano.” Santos and Javadi stare at each other before staring back at him, dead panned. Whittaker points, taking a sip out of his mug. “You people have no appreciation for quality.” He says, before getting called to attend to an elderly patient with severe diarrhea.
“The only thing quality about that drink is his cup.” Javadi muttered before staring back at her computer screen. “I got him that mug.” Trinity huffed out a quiet laugh, sound barely audible beneath the low hum of monitors and distant conversations echoing through the department.
***
The Emergency Department had a routine like rhythm to it. Chaos, Quiet, Repeat. The routine exhausting nearly all of them, but today moved slower.
Princess wheeled an elderly patient down the hall, Perlah was helping with paperwork. While a child–probably about six years old has been nonstop crying for the past 5 minutes. Exactly the reason why she did not want to get into pedes, the crying, the whining, it was too much for her. Trinity glanced back at her computer, doing a quick stretch before continuing her charting. She had always loved the practical and direct application of being a doctor, but the theories and writing always annoyed her. The cursor blinked impatiently across the unfinished note on her screen.
Johnathan Williams
Room twelve. UTI.
Male, Age 27.
Stable.
Likely discharge.
Her shoulders loosened as she typed. Shifts like these were rare enough that the entire department silently agreed to not even acknowledge them. Movement in her peripheral vision pulled her attention away. Dr. Al-Hashimi approached the station, tablet tucked beneath one arm, expression unreadable. She stopped beside Trinity’s chair, staring at her then at the computer. “Doctor Santos.” Trinity jumped, “Jeez– Dr. Al, you scared me.” She sighed. The attending smiled back at her. “You know, Dr. Mckay has been telling me about how good you are with kids–” She said, while looking over at room 7 with the crying child. “She’s lying.” She immediately replied, looking over at the room.
“Well, unfortunately for you I have already assigned you to help with some of our pediatrics patients for the rest of the shift. We have been short staffed with the pediatrics especially because their senior resident got pulled into an admission, and I believe based on your skills that you will be perfect to help.” She stared intently at the girl.
A quiet sigh escaped her nose before she could stop it.
It wasn’t like she hated pediatrics. She respected it too much to ever want to do it herself. The crying, worried parents, screaming. The emotional honesty children carried around like an open wound. How kids trusted you completely or not at all. An exhausting job, especially for someone who wasn’t a fan of children. Maybe because she always saw a little bit of herself in them.
That was partly why she wanted to get into surgery after residency. Surgery was different from pediatrics in every possible way—controlled, methodical, practical, detached when it needed to be. There was comfort in the precision of it all. Steel instruments laid across trays, sutures threaded through practiced hands, and problems that could be cut open and fixed instead of comforted and talked about.
Emergency Medicine sat somewhere in between. Chaotic enough to keep her busy and moving, detached enough to stop her from thinking too hard. Most days, she preferred it that way.
“You'll do well, I know you can.” Dr. Al-Hashimi said, staring right into her. Patting her back while giving her a clipboard with all the details of the patient in room 7. “Gee. Thanks Doc.” She dragged a hand down her face and sighed deeply. “Don’t stress too much, I've seen a glimpse of you with kids. You're good.” The statement caught her off guard. Not enough for anyone else to notice—but enough.
“You do know that there are people in this department with better ‘bedside manner’ than me, right? Mohan, Crash, heck, even-” She tries to reason before Al-Ashimi stares at her in a way that makes her shut up. “You'll be fine, I trust you.” Al-Hashimi said, before getting dragged away by Dana for another consult.
Trinity stood up, and made her way to room 7.
***
Princess was already in the room, trying to tend to the child as the mother comforted the crying girl.
Sophie Francis
6-year-old female,
Persistent fever.
Vomiting.
Possible viral infection.
Trinity stepped inside the room, the chart tucked under her arm as she took in the scene. The child was small, pale, and flushed. You can tell from her eyes that she had been crying for quite a while, so was the mother. You could tell that both were exhausted. Her mother sat beside her, whispering reassurance as she held back tears. Rubbing her daughter’s hand as she hummed lullabies to keep her calm. Her mother kept whispering reassurance, brushing damp hair from her child's forehead, while Princess adjusted the pulse oximeter with careful hands, all while checking the child’s temperature.
The IV had not been started yet. Not because it was wrong–there were dozens of reasons why there would be a delay in Pediatrics, but because the child looked just sick enough now that waiting would make everything harder. “What are her vitals?” She asked Princess. “Temp 40.1, HR 142. BP is stable but borderline for age. She’s been vomiting since last night, can’t tolerate PO.” Princess replied. Thoughts raced Trinity’s head. Borderline dehydration, Tachycardic, Fever not responding well to the antipyretics at home. Still likely viral–but now with enough red flags to justify a closer workup.
The child let out another shaky cry as the monitor beeped faster with her movement. Trinity scanned the child’s chart one more time, before softening her voice. “I’m Dr. Santos, and I will be your doctor.” She smiled softly at the girl who only pressed closer into her mother’s side.
The mother looked up quickly. “Doc, she hasn’t stopped crying. I've tried everything– ibuprofen, a cold towel on her forehead to keep her cool, but her fever keeps getting worse and she has been throwing up all night. I don’t know what to do anymore–she just keeps getting worse.” The mother explained frantically, eyes teary. You could tell she’s trying hard not to panic and cry in front of her child.
Trinity nodded, “We're going to help her feel better.” She said calmly, setting the chart down.
She got on the same level as the child, smiling. “Hi Sophie, I’m Doctor Santos. You don’t have to be so scared, yeah? I will do my very best to help you.” Sophie looked at her, cheeks flushed from crying. “Promise? Like Rapunzel?” Santos smiles. “Yes, just like Rapunzel.”
She pulls the mother outside of the room. “So.. We will need to do more than fluids and fever medicine.” The mother stiffened slightly. “More tests?” Santos nodded. “Blood work.” Worry shot through the mothers spine, as she stuttered. “Sophie doesn’t– she doesn’t do well with needles, or blood.”
“I understand your worry.” Trinity said gently, keeping her voice steady. “However, it’s what we need to do to figure out why she’s not improving.” The mothers hands tightened around the handkerchief she was holding. “Is it serious?”
“Right now, it looks like a stubborn viral infection with dehydration.” Trinity replied, “But her fever is persistent, and she’s not tolerating any fluids the way we’d expect. Doing blood work can help us rule anything more concerning, and make sure that we are not missing any infection that needs different treatment.”
She paused to let the information settle, not rushing. “I won't do anything unecessary.” She added softly, pausing before she asked “Do you… Do you have anyone else in your family that can take over? Just so that she can have someone to stay with her. You look like you need rest.” She asked gently.
“U-Uhm. Yes, her Father is coming in soon–he just had to help get her older brother ready for school.” Trinity nodded, as she asked Princess to get the tests ready.
The mother looked back towards the room, there Sophie’s crying had softened into a quick nap as her small body curled under the blanket. “She really hates needles.” The mother repeated, quieter. Trinity nods. “I know, Most kids do.”
A brief, tired silence stretched between them.
Trinity continued, more practical now. “We'll do it as quickly as possible. I'll use a small butterfly needle, and we'll only take what we need. She can sit on your lap if that helps, having a parent hold them makes it less scary.” Trinity smiled, as she left to get something from the pediatric ward.
***
Trinity would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel a tad bit jealous toward parents like that. Parents who cared openly, instinctively without hesitation. It was something she didn’t like admitting, even internally. One, because it was unprofessional. And Two, because it wasn’t supposed to matter.
It was supposed to be something expected, not something to feel jealousy towards.
It wasn’t that deep. At least, that was what she told herself.
It is said that it is a parent’s duty to comfort their child when they cry, believe them when they say they are in pain, to stay close even when everything feels unfamiliar and frightening.
Simple. Natural. Expected.
The kind of certainty Trinity had learned to recognize, but never quite felt entitled to linger on.
As she reached the pediatric ward, she saw Princess who was gathering the needed tests. “Princess, do you– do you know where the bandages are?” She asked. “I already took some, why?” She said, pointing to the plain bandages on the cart. Santos shook her head. “No- the ones with design. I know we have character design bandages. I want a Rapunzel one.” Princess nodded, and went to find the bandage Trinity asked for.
***
“Hi Sophie, it’s Doctor Santos again.” She got on Sophie’s level. “So, we will have to give you a quick blood test. I need to use a needle, but it won't hurt at all. You'll just feel a quick pinch, and that’s it.” She said softly. The girl looked at her mom, obviously uneasy, tears welling up in her eyes. Her mother tried soothing her again, but it wasn’t really working anymore. The exhaustion in the room had started to outweigh comfort. “Hey, Hey, look at me. I promise, it will feel like a quick pinch, then it’s done.” She explained gently. The girl shook her head, tears spilling faster now.
“No, No!” She shook her head.
Princess finished setting up and glanced at her. “Ready?” Trinity mouthed a “Give me a sec.” before she looked at Sophie again.
“Hey, Sophie. You like Rapunzel, right?” She asked softly, as Sophie nodded. Trinity smiled. “Do you remember the song that she sings when she heals Flynn with her hair?” Sophie nods, tears coming to a halt. “Why don’t we sing together, hm?” gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. Sophie hesitated—still unsure, still scared—but the crying slowed, caught somewhere between fear and curiosity.
“…I don’t sing loud,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” Trinity replied. “It doesn’t have to be loud. Just enough for you and me. I'll sing with you, okay?”
***
Flower, gleam and glow
Trinity cleans the area, finding a vein. Then tying a blue elastic band around the girl's arm. She flinches, but lets Trinity do the work.
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine
Trinity reaches for the butterfly needle, quickly letting the butterfly needle in while the kid was distracted with singing. Sophie did not even realize it, first tube filling in instantly.
Heal what has been hurt
They both continued to sing as she filled the second tube, handing both tubes to Princess as she grabbed the bandage from the tray.
Change the Fates' design
Save what has been lost
She applied pressure on the puncture, and then applied the Rapunzel bandage.
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine
***
“There. We're done.” Santos smiled, as Sophie looked in shock. “I didn’t feel it!” Sophie exclaimed. Princess smiled as she labeled the tubes, the monitor settled back down. “Told ya it wouldn’t hurt.” She pat the kid’s head, as the mother mouthed a quick ‘Thank you.’ It took a second for Sophie to realize the Rapunzel bandaid she had on, proudly showing her mother, almost as if she was feeling better by the minute.
“We will send this to the lab. It would take a few hours before we get back the results, but we will update immediately once we do. In the meantime, I advise rest, for both of you.” She smiled and left to continue on her charting.
Dr. Al-Hashimi suddenly pats her on the back. “I talked to the patient in room 7, you did an amazing job. Good work, Trinity.” She smiles intently before going to talk to Dana about another consult.