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“Hey, courier!” A lady’s voice calls out behind Bryan, just as he’s around to turn around and head out of the hospital.
Bryan does his best not to groan, or look severely disappointed when he turns around to face the nurse that was just calling for him.
“Yeah?” he croaks, cringing at himself.
“Do you have time for one more drop?” she asks, an almost pleading tone to her voice. Bryan opens his mouth to tell her no—he’s got plans that involve shower, bed, and vodka—but she beats him to the punch. “It’s a triple delivery. Three times the usual pay. Double that if you make it within two hours.”
Bryan scrunches up his entire face, contemplating his options. Ten seconds later, he’s following her back into the room where the deliveries were being held. Bryan hands her the clipboard with the proper papers, hands fidgeting with his gloves and his jackets.
“So, uh—where’re these going again?”
“They’re going to the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. It’s not exactly out of the zone for here, but it’s a ways away,” she says, scribbling down on the clipboard. “They’re going to the ER specifically, because they know exactly which departments each organ is going to. When you get there, go through the ER entrance, not the normal hospital one, alright?”
Bryan nods as he takes the clipboard back from her, scribbling down his own notes. “Right, got it. ER entrance, not regular. Uh, do you know if there’s anyone I should specifically talk to? ‘Cause half the time the doctors will just take the deliveries and I gotta hunt them down for a signature and—"
“I can’t tell you who to specifically hand them off to, unfortunately. They have different charge nurses and attendings for day and night shifts, like most hospitals. Your best bet is to just walk in, go straight up to the desk, and tell them you’re a medical courier.” She offers him a smile before gently patting the side of his arm. “It’s nearly 4AM, so you’d better hurry up and get that delivery done if you’re wanting any good nap time.”
Chances are Bryan won’t be getting any sleep until the next evening, considering how far away Pittsburgh is from his own apartment. This hospital itself is already an hour out, so it looks like he’ll have to risk napping in his car before he leaves the other hospital after delivery. Maybe he should stop for a Monster.
No, no pit stops—he’s got three deliveries to make. He could get paid hundreds if he makes it on time.
If any cops pull him over, he’ll just have to win them over by telling them he’s saving lives.
Bryan exits the hospital with two bags hanging over his shoulders, and carrying the third in his arms. He places all three of them carefully in the passenger seat, tucking the largest one under the glove compartment where a person’s feet would usually go, and sets the other two side-by-side on the actual seat. He buckles them in with care, patting them gently, and shuts the door before he skips around the front of his car and quickly climbs into the driver’s seat.
He makes the nearly two hour drive in about an hour and a half, and he definitely broke a few laws to do so—but what these hospitals don’t know won’t kill them.
There’s no way he’s parking directly in front of the ER doors, so Bryan pulls into the parking lot across the way. He’s quick, yet careful, as he pulls all three bags out of his car and gently adjusts them. He slings two over his shoulders, cradling the third bag in his arms as he quickly makes his way across the lot and the street to the ER entrance.
Bryan sort of stumbles his way through the ambulance bay doors, carrying the packages, so it’s a bit hard for him to pull out his ID card.
“Hey there, courier!”
Bryan looks up as he’s called out to, meeting the eyes of an older nurse, a woman with thick-rimmed glasses and bright red hair that looks natural. She waves him over with a pen fit snug between her fingers.
He smiles awkwardly towards her, exhaustion running through his veins, and carefully pushes his way through the crowd of bodies. Bryan nods his head as he approached the central desk, gently setting the third package down on the counter. He pulls the lanyard up to show the nurse his ID, before he begins to slowly take off both of the other packages.
“You got here earlier than we expected you to be,” she smiles at him, reaching over the desk counter to pat his shoulder. “Thank you, dear. Your services are very appreciated and thanked.”
“Oh, uh, it’s no problem,” Bryan says with another nod, awkward smile still on display. “Here’s the other two.”
He sets the bags down on top of the counter, letting out a sigh as he does. His eyes glance down to see the woman’s name tag, noting down Lena in his mind. Bryan blinks a few times, reaching up to rub at his temples. He pats around his body until he can feel his phone, pulling it out of his pocket to glance at the time.
Nearly six in the morning. Bryan can feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones, his head a bit foggy and hard to keep up. He needs some sleep, ASAP. He’s been couriering for hospitals for hours and it’s definitely taking its toll on him. His fingertips press further into his temple, the pain causing the fog to break in his mind just a bit.
“Hey, um, is there—” Bryan starts, only for both of his brain and mouth to both sputter, almost like they’re coming to a stop and restarting within seconds. He can’t seem to grasp just what he was going to say next.
Pshoo. There goes his train of thought. Right out of the station without even stopping.
“Are you okay, hon?” Lena asks him, reaching over the counter to gently touch his upper arm.
“I’m—” Bryan blinks, then suddenly the entire hospital is so fucking bright and his head hurts and he can’t breathe—
The next thing Bryan knows, or at least can comprehend, he’s staring up at the ceiling and he can hear the muffled, warbling sounds of people shouting around him. He blinks again—and doesn’t open his eyes this time.
When Bryan opens his eyes again, he’s still staring up at the hospital ceiling, but it seems much closer than it had been before. His consciousness seems to come back to him slowly as his face scrunches up, a groan ripping itself from his throat. Everything fucking aches. Holy shit.
“Wha’ the fu…” Bryan mutters, his mouth as dry as a fucking desert. It feels sticky when he talks.
“Morning there, sunshine.”
Bryan squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before squinting them towards the source of the voice, turning his head to see a woman standing by his side, fiddling with an IV. He follows the IV strings, gaze stopping when it ends, attached to his arm.
Well, that answers that.
“Can I ask, uh,” Bryan coughs to clear his throat, getting his body to shift on the hospital bed. “What… exactly happened?”
“You passed out at the desk,” the nurse—or doctor? She looks like a doctor—says to him, turning at the side of his bed to face him better. “Hit your head on the counter on the way down.”
“Oh.” Bryan blinks, staring her down.
“I’m Trinity Santos, one of the doctors assigned to you.” Dr. Santos shoots him a curt smile, but it doesn’t feel impolite or cold—just somewhat awkward, which is exactly how Bryan feels right now.
“Great to meet you,” Bryan says, though there is a bit of sarcasm in his tone. “So how’s the whole… head thing?”
“You tell me,” Dr. Santos laughs lightly as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Feel any pain up there? Lightheaded or foggy at all?”
“Uh.” Everything about him feels heavy, rather than light, but he’s sure that’s not exactly what she means. Bryan reaches his hand up, pressing his palm against his cheek as he gathers his thoughts. “Maybe foggy? Head feels heavy though, not… light or whatever that is.”
Dr. Santos gives a nod of confirmation, before she steps over to a computer near the left foot of Bryan’s bed, closer to the wall. She clicks around on a bunch of stuff while Bryan lays there, before she turns to him.
“You’ve got a mild concussion, and thankfully, our Dr. Ellis was around and managed to cushion your fall a bit so it wouldn’t get any worse. You’re also pretty dehydrated and your blood sugar’s super low, so those are probably why you ended up fainting.”
Dr. Santos pushes her hands into her pockets, right as the door to Bryan’s room swings open, with two more doctors entering the room. Bryan looks over towards them as he shifts up in the bed, only for the man (older, grey hair, really buff what the hell?) to hold his hand out to keep Bryan laying down.
“Dr. Santos, could you sit the bed up for our patient?” He asks, and Dr. Santos does just that, reaching back behind Bryan’s field of view.
The bed immediately begins to push up, until Bryan is sitting up much more comfortably without having to move that much.
“Perfect. Nice to meet you while you’re awake,” he says, giving Bryan a smile. “My name’s Dr. Jack Abbot, I’m one of the other doctors that’s been keeping an eye on you.”
“How, uh, long was I out for?”
“About two hours,” Dr. Abbot says.
“Jesus, really?” Bryan mutters, shaking his head slightly with disbelief.
Dr. Abbot then turns and gestures to the woman who came in with him. “And this is Dr. Parker Ellis. She’s the one who helped keep you from cracking your skull open.”
Dr. Ellis gives Bryan a nod and a small wave, and Bryan jerks his chin back at her in response.
“Thanks for that,” he mumbles, breathing in deeply before he lets out a slow sigh. “Sorry for all the random hassle. Must make me seem like a shitty medical courier if I’m walkin’ into hospitals and fuckin’ passing out.”
“I’d be more concerned about what caused you to pass out in the first place,” Dr. Santos pipes up, patting the edge of his bed.
“Guess I just haven’t been eatin’ as much as I should when on the job,” Bryan says woefully, letting himself lean back against the pillows. “This courier job is pretty much all I do. Pay’s so good, I always try to do my best with the deliveries, especially if there’s extra for a time frame, y’know?”
“I get it,” Dr. Abbot says, nodding. “Hard to keep track of when you’re always on the move, right?”
“Right,” Bryan murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment. He looks up between the three doctors, suddenly feeling rather exposed. He’s not used to being inside the hospital rooms, just the hallways or lobbies to do drops. “So… when do you think I’ll be able to head home?”
“A few more hours of observation, and if your vitals are looking good and you’re not on the verge of passing out again, you’ll be good to go.” Dr. Santos answers, and Bryan nods.
“If you need anything,” Dr. Ellis starts, “Dr. Santos and I will be here. You can just call for us or a nurse.”
The two women make their way out of the room, with Dr. Abbot following them closely, but Bryan raises his hand, catching the man’s attention.
“What uh… what about you, Dr. Abbot?”
The look Dr. Abbot gives him is amused, his mouth twisted up into a smile that makes Bryan wish he wasn’t in a stupid hospital gown right now.
“My shift’s over, unfortunately,” Dr. Abbot says. Bryan nearly cringes at his own disappointment. “But you’re in capable hands, Mr. Hodukavich.”
“It’s just Bryan,” Bryan mumbles, picking at his fingernails and his palm. It’s less that he’s awkward with people, and more that he’s dragged himself into this position by stopping the hot doctor from leaving his room. “But, uh—thanks, too. I mean. For, y’know, making sure I wasn’t dying or anything.”
Dr. Abbot laughs quietly, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t need to thank me, Bryan. Just glad you’re doing well.”
Bryan opens his mouth, wanting to say something—anything, really—but Dr. Abbot seems to beat him to it.
“Hopefully next time we meet, it’ll be a more successful drop off, and not one where you’ve fainted again.” He shoots Bryan a fucking wink, then waves with a hand. “Take care of yourself, Bryan.”
And with that, he’s out the door.
Bryan stares out after him, before he lifts his hands and buries his face in his palm, silently screaming into them.
He might never show his face in this hospital again.