Late night. Duncan's apartment.
Beep beep.
Beep beep.
Adam's pager went off.
"Huh, that was fast!" Adam said, surprised, grabbing it to check.
The TV was still blaring with sounds of gunfire.
NYPD had the scene locked down tight—no one was getting in, and no one was dumb enough to try.
Adam figured it'd take at least until the shootout died down for the hospital to get busy.
Or maybe it wouldn't get busy at all.
But here they were, calling him in already.
"I'm heading to the hospital. You guys stay home tonight—no going out. Stray bullets are no joke," Adam said as he got ready to leave.
"Drop us off at Monica's first," Juno suggested with a smile. "With all this chaos tonight, we'll keep her company. It'll feel safer that way."
"Smart thinking!" Adam's eyes lit up. "I almost forgot about that. Grab the first aid kit too, just in case."
"Got it." Juno nodded, heading to the bedroom. She punched in the fingerprint and code like a pro, opened the hidden compartment, pulled out a first aid kit, and grabbed Karen before heading downstairs with Adam.
Adam dropped them off at Monica's, popped upstairs for a quick hello, then sped off to the hospital.
"What's going on?" Adam asked the second he hit the medical center, curiosity buzzing.
"Golden Glow Nursing Home got hit too. The director's dead on the spot, and a bunch of staff are either down or messed up," George reported right away.
"Word is, the guy's a soldier who just got back stateside," Carter added. "His mom was at Golden Glow. Saw that news, saw the pics of those sedated patients, grabbed a gun, and stormed in to get her out."
"…" Adam's mouth twitched as he quipped, "What's next, a sixty-year-old princess locked up in there too?"
Holy crap, this was the real "War God Returns, Finds Sixty-Year-Old Mom in a Doghouse, Goes Full Storm Mode"! 😳
He'd just thrown that headline together for kicks—never thought an actual war god would show up! Were soldiers these days this hardcore?
One wrong word, and boom—charging in guns blazing!
Now he was half-wondering if there really was a sixty-year-old princess in there, waiting for some king to claim her.
"Get changed, quick!" Adam snapped out of it and barked orders. "Ambulance is almost here."
"Yes, sir!" The four interns scrambled into disposable protective gear.
"Oh, and stick close to me when it hits," Adam said, suiting up fast. "Don't just grab any patient. Stay sharp—nobody knows if someone's coming back to finish the job."
"Yes, sir!" The four of them flinched, eyes wide.
Adam led them to the ER entrance, had a quick word with the security captain, and while waiting for the ambulance, called Matthew and the crew. "Stay inside, lock the windows, and don't poke your heads out to gawk," he warned.
The psych hospital shootout was way south, miles from Matthew's place up north—no sniper or bullet was crossing that distance. So Adam hadn't worried about them before.
But now? With a legit "returning war god" hitting Golden Glow—which sat right on the line between Matthew's apartment and the medical center—he had to nag a little extra.
In this drama-filled world, stray bullets took out nosy onlookers every year, and the numbers weren't single digits.
Sure, spread across a few hundred million people, it's a blip.
But if that ridiculous, terrifying fluke hit someone you cared about? You'd kick yourself forever for not nagging them enough.
The ambulance screeched in soon after.
"Officer Peter Velus, 25, chest wound, 860 mL internal bleeding," the paramedic rattled off fast.
"Ow, it hurts so bad!" the young cop groaned.
"You're so brave!" Lexie blurted out. "First injured officer they've brought in tonight—you must've been right up front, huh?"
"…" The guy perked up for a sec at the pretty doctor's praise, forgetting the pain—until his face flushed red, and he looked away.
"2 mL morphine," Adam ordered, checking him over. "Melendez, Carter, get him to X-ray. Keep me posted."
"Yes, sir!" The two darted off with the patient.
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"Grey!" Adam called after they left, glancing at Lexie. "Less chit-chat, more work."
"Yes, sir…" Lexie blinked, confused.
"O'Malley, fill her in," Adam sighed, shaking his head.
"This guy probably didn't get hit charging the front lines," George explained. "NYPD doesn't just rush in like that. With the firefight on TV that crazy, we'd have more injured cops by now if they did.
He's likely a rookie—never seen action this wild, got too jittery, and either shot himself by accident or got tagged by another newbie.
Nothing to do with bravery."
"Oh!" Lexie's face went beet red. 😳
She'd meant that praise for real!
Who'd have thought she didn't just miss the mark—she'd stabbed right into the guy's embarrassment?
Not only was this young cop not brave, he was kinda a scaredy-cat, pulling a stunt like this.
He'd be the laughingstock among his buddies now, and worse, it'd spread beyond the precinct—tagged as the guy a hot doctor "noticed" for all the wrong reasons.
His mental baggage was probably piling up fast.
"Looks like you've got a ways to go before you nail that 'professional but not cold' vibe," Adam said with a sigh. "Sometimes we do need to give patients more than just medical stuff—but not like this, and definitely not right now."
"Sorry, Dr. Duncan," Lexie mumbled, looking guilty.
"No need to apologize," Adam told her. "We're doctors. Best not to say sorry at all. In this job, let your actions do the talking—that's what counts."
"Mm-hmm." Lexie tightened her face, lips pressed, nodding hard with a nasal grunt of agreement.
Another ambulance roared in.
Adam, Lexie, and George rushed over.
This time, it was a badly injured staffer from Golden Glow—one who hadn't died yet.
Even while working, Adam's mind wandered to that soldier-war-god. Would he show up to finish the job?
Were these staffers innocent?
In Adam's book, nope.
Golden Glow's dirty secrets—did they really not know?
Come on.
The workers there either knew the shady stuff going down and played along, or they turned a blind eye.
Anyone with a shred of heart wouldn't have passed the interview to work there.
How could you stand watching those newly locked-up seniors sobbing and fighting back?
One slip of compassion, and you'd be a massive liability to Golden Glow.
The place had run this long without a hitch—hell, Judge Lomas even called it a "top choice for care." That meant their public image was squeaky clean.
No way Judge Judy Lomas could hype it up that hard otherwise.
So their management had to be tight—smart enough to weed out bleeding hearts.
Innocent? These staffers? Hardly.
(End of Chapter)