InsaneJournal

Clarke was still trying to figure out what these dreams meant, if anything. The fact that she shared dreams with someone else was the part that really had her confused and over thinking despite the fact that she had seen, on The Network, that there were other people who shared dreams as well. None of it made any sense whatsoever and the fact that no one seemed to know what caused any of this was even weirder. There were some people who had been dreaming for years and yet no one knew what caused it. Of course the even stranger part was how items, from the dreams, somehow seemed to be able to cross over, which Clarke hadn’t really thought much of until she had woken up that morning to find the two headed deer trinket that Finn had made for her, sitting on her bedside table. She hadn’t really known what to do with it and had been so shocked at seeing it that she’d simply left it where it was, but of course she had been thinking about it all day.

And when one was a Resident, thinking of things besides the patient in front of you wasn’t exactly a good thing. She had just left the exam room of the most recent patient the Attending had been examining and she was taking notes for him as they moved towards the next exam room, all the while Clarke tried to get the dreams and Finn’s trinket off her mind. Honestly, these dreams were likely to cause her a lot of problems down the road if she couldn’t figure out how to compartmentalize them in her mind to think about when she wasn’t working.
The coach sent Bellamy to the nurse who had to look at it and fill out all the necessary paperwork. After announcing his wrist was swollen and his next stop was the ER, she grabbed an ice pack and placed it on top of his wrist before sliding back behind the computer. He could hear the sounds of the keyboard as she filled out all her paperwork, asking him questions every so often.

When she was finally done with him, he was off to the ER. The nurse had told him it was probably fractured. Bellamy signed himself in, filling out the necessary paperwork.
Bellamy had lost track of time when he was finally called by a nurse who asked him a list of questions. Taking his temperature and blood pressure, etc.

Eventually she left him and he was left there to wait again.

As they reached the next exam room, the Attending Doctor’s pager went off and after checking it asked Clarke if she thought she could handle the next patient on her own for the time being since it seemed like a simple fracture to which Clarke assured him that she could.

Bringing up the next patient’s file on her tablet, Clarke opened the door without actually looking at the name that popped up and stopped in the doorway as her eyes fell upon the young man sitting on the exam table. “Bellamy?” She hadn’t intended to say his name out loud or sound so shocked, but after meeting Murphy, seeing someone else from her dreams unexpectedly, she was surprised, to say the least, at seeing someone else from the dreams.

He was busy thinking about the timing of this fracture. It was the end of the school year. It was the last week of practice of the season. At least before summer camps and programs. And this happened. He didn't even really know how it happened. Bad luck if you ask him.

Someone's voice pulled him out of his own thoughts. Bellamy looked up when he heard his name. "That's me," he announced, confirming she had the right patient. He adjusted a bit, sitting up a little straighter. Really he just wanted to get this done and head home.

Bellamy obviously hadn’t noted the surprise in Clarke’s tone so she cleared her throat, doing her best to recover from her surprise at seeing yet another person from her dreams, “Um, right. I’m Cla...Doctor Griffin.” Even if she hadn’t been thrown off by seeing Bellamy, she was still getting used to calling herself a doctor.

Closing the door, she glanced down at Bellamy’s file then back up at him, “So can you tell me what happened?” She set her tablet down before approaching him to examine his swollen wrist.
Bellamy explained how he'd accidentally taken the ball to his wrist. About how the head coach made him go to the nurse even though he insisted he was fine. And finally how the nurse filled out an incident report, informed him his wrist was swollen and sent him on his way here. It was the end of the school year. Summer was about to start. There were a few baseball clinics he was supposed to help run over the summer.

"So what's the damage, doc?"

This would be annoying to say the least. He was hoping it was a sprain or at the very most a hairline fracture. Four to eight weeks was too long to deal with this. Especially given that he had most of the summer off.

Clarke examined Bellamy’s wrist, asking him to turn his hand and arm this way and that way and she tested his reflexes in his fingers, asking when it hurt more and finally determined that he likely didn’t need an x-ray, “I think it’s just sprained. If it were fractured or broken, you’d be in a lot more pain.” She picked up her tablet and made a few more notes on Bellamy’s chart, “So you’re a coach?” She asked, picking up on the little things he’d said in relation to the injury.

“That’s great news.” Which is what he’d said to the nurse but since it happened at work...she had told him to stop arguing with her. She even used her mom voice on him.

“Assistant. For the baseball team. Good bunch of kids,” Bellamy told her. He enjoyed the middle school group. Even if most of the other teachers thought it was the worst grades.

“That sounds like fun,” Clarke said, smiling as she got up and moved to a cabinet, which she opened to look for a brace. “Only sport I played in high school was field hockey for one year.” Finding a brace, she closed the cabinet and turned back to Bellamy as she undid the fastenings and so that she could fit it around Bellamy’s wrist and hand then refastened it. “Wear this for two weeks and it should be fine. If the pain or swelling doesn’t go away before then, come back.”


“It definitely has its moments. I try to keep it fun.” Bellamy hated being the bad guy. But it was a part of the job. It helped that Bellamy connected with kids really well. He understood them more than some of his colleagues. “Only a year? How come?” Most of the kids he saw now had been in the same sport since kindergarten.

“You got it. Two weeks I can do. Thank you.”

Clarke shrugged as she made a few notes on her tablet in Bellamy’s file, “It just wasn’t for me. I’ve never really been into sports, but I wanted something that would look good for college.” She smirked a little at that revelation. “And you’re welcome. Now try not to get hit with any more baseballs.”

Bellamy got to his feet, grinning at Clarke. “I’ll do my best, Doc. Can’t make any promises.”