InsaneJournal

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Who: Elliot Reid and Dean Winchester
What: The Florence Nightingale Effect Doctoring
Where: Gym/Clinic
When: 5:13 p.m.
Rating: Dean in pain probably = R
Status: Active

In a way, Elliot was glad for the distraction of a natural disaster. Not that she would ever wish the pain and suffering that she was seeing now on anyone, but at least it gave her something to do and took her mind off the fact that she'd woken up in this strange place. She didn't really know what it meant. Part of her wondered if she'd been hit by a bus somewhere and was sleeping away a coma, incorporating the names and things around her into this nightmare. Part of her wondered if maybe years of stress had finally gotten to her and caused her to have a psychological break from reality. Was she in a padded room somewhere? She'd often secretly thought maybe she belonged in one, but she thought it would be a lot more peaceful than this place. She was supposed to be walking around in fluffy white slippers and doing crossword puzzles and eating the standard issue cherry jello, not making rounds the best she could in a makeshift hospital with too little supplies and doctors.

Once she and Lexie had reached the main gym and she'd found that Kim and Andy had been badly hurt she'd set to trying to help as many people as she could. It wasn't easy, especially when more and more people kept flooding into the gym with varying degrees of injuries. Considering that both of the other doctors had been hurt enough where they were limited on what they could perform, Elliot had been somewhat relieved at the fact that her injury was minor. She'd dressed the wound and then rolled up her sleeves to see what could be done.

Four hours had passed quickly but she was starting to feel their effects as she moved to the next cot in line, ripping out a piece of paper from her journal and poising her pen over it to write down injuries and notes. Her feet were killing her, her side still ached, her head was throbbing and her shoulders were sore from lifting the shelves off Lexie. She rolled her neck, her eyes landing on the next patient. Male, mid twenties, broken arm, possibly broken or burnt hands, she wrote on the piece of paper. She looked up and met his eyes, giving him a small smile. "I'm Dr. Reid," she said, still clinging to her title and what little separation from her patients that she could. She wasn't even sure if they were real people and if they were it meant that this place was all that much more real. Better to stick with the scripts.

She looked over his splint and wrapped hands. "Where does it hurt?" She asked, glancing back down at the piece of paper in front of her. "And what happened to your hands?"