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Paying the Price

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Literature Text

Paying the Price
A Trauma Center: Under the Knife fanfiction


“Vitals dropping!”

Derek hated to admit it, but he was almost getting used to hearing that phrase.  Normally it would not perturb him too much.  The patient’s vitals dropping was never a good thing, but whenever his assistant would call out that warning he had always felt an inferno ignite from inside.  He met every surgery he preformed with unparalleled determination.  No matter who his patient was, he would save his or her life, and he would let nothing get in his way.  

He met his current operation with the same resolve as he had in the past, but things were not going well.  No matter how many lacerations he sutured, how much stabilizer he injected, or how much he burned at the cursed parasite with the laser, Savato took everything he dished out and returned it three folds.  He could barely keep up, but it was too early to use the Healing Touch.  He had to wait until it was cornered and desperate before hitting it with everything he had.  I know I can hold out.  Derek’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as sutured another laceration with blinding speed.  I just hope she can . .

“No matter how much you try, you cannot overcome the power of death.”

Derek shuddered at the cold voice as it slithered through his mind.  He forced his hands to steady, even as his shoulders continued to shiver with the chill that descended upon him.  “Shut up, Adam.” Derek growled.  “I’m tired of your ‘judgment’!  You are in no position to decide who lives and dies, and you never were.”  He zapped at the demonic spider as he smeared antibiotic gel on yet another laceration with his free hand.  He then reached for the stitches and began suturing while his right hand continued focusing the laser on Savato.  He may have even been surprised by his dexterity had his task not demanded so much attention.  “C’mon, just a little more.”

Savato’s shield finally gave under the constant application of the laser and Derek did not miss a beat.  Before he even knew it, the scalpel was in his hand and slicing down the parasite’s back.  He quickly grabbed the syringe, which was conveniently filled with Dr. Niguel’s custom made serum, and all but stabbed it into the bug’s gaping wound.  With the quick injection, Savato twitched in agony before making a hasty retreat towards the center of the patient’s heart.  This is it!

Derek stood by with his suturing tool in hand as Savato made nine devastating lacerations across the organ.  Teeth gritted behind his surgical mask, Derek focused intently on the star shape in his mind.  With the flash of the star, his world became monochromatic and everyone around him slowed.  His head spun slightly from the effort, but his hands were already at work suturing the lacerations.  Just one more.  Savato made it apparent that it was not going down without one last hurrah.  For each laceration that Derek sutured, the parasite made three more and if the surgeon did not know any better, he would have sworn the GUILT was grinning menacingly.  Enjoy it while you can, you little bastard!           

The cloud in his mind cleared and Derek braced himself for another Healing Touch.  His body was still getting used to his powers, even after using them multiple times.  Using them back to back like this was not exactly the best idea but Derek was determined to under go the strain as necessary.  Besides, he saw little room to complain considering the trauma his patients would often go through.  For her.  One more time.

The outline of a star once again traced the paths he had carved in his mind.  His body trembled from the effort, but his mind was as grounded as steel.  The world around him froze as his focus increased to inconceivable levels.  Finally, Savato was at his mercy.  There was not a hint of remorse as Derek injected one last lethal dose and allowed himself a satisfied smirk as the disease succumb to a dying tremor.  His world abruptly returned to color and motion as Savato was eradicated.  Derek took in a large, relieved sigh.  “She’s going to make it.”    

“Doctor!”

The nurse’s abrupt cry rang out in unison with the heart monitor’s screech.  The patient was flat lining and it only took Derek a quick glance to see why.  Her heart was dissolving.  “No!  How is this happening?” Derek pleaded out loud.  “Wha -?  What!?”  He froze and slowly lifted his hand, feeling a thick and sticky substance drip from his fingertips.  He expected to see dark rivers of blood trailing down them, but instead watched as black tar continued to flow almost endlessly from his hands.  He watched through wide eyes as the fluid hissed upon contact with the patient’s body and began dissolving her organs to oblivion.  “What the hell is this!?”  

Derek looked down at his trembling hands, unable to determine where the dark liquid was coming from or how to stop it.  As it ran down his hand and snaked onto his bare forearm, he felt his entire body shudder with the sheer coldness it caressed his skin with.  It did not burn him, as it had the patient, but as it continued to slide down his form it immediately ate away at the tiled floor.  Perplexed beyond reason, Derek took a few slow and shaky steps back before feeling his back collide with another form.  Startled, he whipped around and found himself trapped by Dr. Hoffman’s disapproving glare.  “Dr. Stiles, what have you done?”

“I . . I didn’t . . .I don’t . .” Derek stuttered as he slowly backpedaled.  Dr. Hoffman stepped forward, his narrowed eyes still locked with those of the surgeon.  “You killed her.”  His voice was cold, almost demonic.  “I didn’t kill her!” Derek pleaded.  “I’d never . . .I don’t . .”

"People strive toward death... Only a fool could deny that."

“No!” Derek pressed his hands against his ears, desperate to drown out Adam’s cursed voice by any means necessary.  He closed his eyes tightly as his hands continued to bleed out the dark substance, causing it to soak his hair and his body to shiver horribly in response.  In spite of his efforts, he found himself unable to block out the voices.  Dr. Hoffman’s accusations merged with Adam’s deathly mantra to the point where their words became nearly unintelligible.  Not that it mattered, for their sinister whispers were all it took for Derek to collapse to his knees with his fingers still digging into the sides of his head.

He remained there for several minutes, the voices and cold descending upon him without mercy, when his eyes shot open in surprise.  The frigid caress of the black fluid had given an abrupt change to warmth.  Derek slowly peeled his right hand back from his face, perplexed, but no sooner had he done so did he feel his stomach turn.  He was covered in blood.  It caked over his body and caused his hair and clothes to cling, like sins, to his flesh.  He felt a large puddle of it collecting around him and his eyes could not help but to be drawn towards his bloody reflection.  

Derek was entrapped by his own image.  His skin had turned several shades pale and he looked fresh from a slaughter house.  “This is her blood, Stiles.”  He stiffened at Dr. Hoffman’s voice but found himself unable to tear his eyes away from his ghastly image.  “Her blood is on your head.  You’ve killed her, Derek.”
“No, I wanted . .to save her. . .”
“You’ve killed her, Derek.  You’ve killed Angie Thompson.”
        
-------

“No!”

Cold sweat cascaded down Derek’s forehead as he jerked awake.  Taking in several gasps, he quickly took in his surroundings.  Instant relief washed over him when he found himself in the bedroom of his apartment, his sheets entangled around his body no doubt do to his restless thrashing.  He sat up and placed a hand to his forehead, brushing his wet bangs from his eyes.  “God, that dream again.”  Derek’s erratic breath and heartbeat immediately began to calm, but his mind was still shaking.  When he first had the nightmare, shortly after eradicating the final traces of GUILT, he had chalked it up to stress.  He had it again when he and Angie were in Brussels to help out Caduceus’s European counterpart with another disease, but figured his subconscious was still recovering.  Now they both had returned to the states and it was coming up on two months, and he wasn’t sure what the dreams meant anymore, or if they even meant anything.

Derek groaned and buried his face in his hands.  “Why can’t I just dream about Scarlett Johansson like Tyler does?”
All Trauma Center: UTK characters are copyright of Atlus.

When Derek first realized his power, Dr. Hoffman warned him that the Healing Touch would cost him his happiness. The hands of a doctor are heavy, he had said.

Ultimately, Stiles had to pay a price when he accepted the Healing Touch, and this is part of it. Not just the nightmares, but what is to follow.

I'm planning on turning this into a little mini series, sort of a foreshadowing conclusion to the events of Under the Knife. Be warned, though. This story will have an aprubt ending. It's really meant to show that Derek's troubles are just beginning. Afterall, that is the price a hero must pay.

Please let me know what you think.
© 2007 - 2024 CrazyGirlPerson
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ChiiFan222's avatar
I loved the ending.

Derek groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Why can’t I just dream about Scarlett Johansson like Tyler does?”