☠ Death waits for no man.

Dr. Jasper Leon Hazlett, MD Surgical oncologist at SGMW Hospital. 39 years young. Ukelele enthusiast.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

The Sun'll Come Out }} Jasper & Cora

[coraxsummers]

A slightly smug grin flashed upon Cora’s face as she dried her dripping wet hands with a towel. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, the young head shrugged. “I like to think I’m a little better than just good." Cora responded with a playful wink as she headed out into the halls of his hospital by his side. There was really nothing quite like the high a doctor got from performing a successful surgery and saving a life, and Cora planned to ride that high all the way to the finish line. "I’m one of the best this program has and you know it."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Jasper chuckled softly, the warmth of the sentiment reaching his eyes easily. Such a confident little thing she was. She was right, though. She was a diligent and hard working student, and it showed in the OR when he grilled her on the anatomical and surgical challenges of each individual case. To be fair, she was near the end of her intern year, so that gave her a little advantage over a completely fresh face, but still he was impressed. "And so humble,"he teased, noting the way she followed along with him like an obedient student, always so eager to learn. "Keep up the hard work, Summers, and you'll have your pick of the fellowships when the time comes."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

{ You Already Know How {...} Jasper

***Mature Content*** You've been warned.

Red. That was what he felt. The red of the buzzing neon lights above the rows of bottles of booze. Red in the remnants of his last drink before the bartender would cut him off. In the pain of repeated rejections to spite his efforts to find himself a woman to bed. In the bitter taste on his teeth. The anguish that welled up as he reminded himself death was everyone’s ultimate fate. He wasn’t a drinker, but he was well past drunk. Again. There was red in that, too. Anger at himself for becoming this person again. Anger for pushing farther than he’d ever pushed, and still having nothing to show for it. Nothing except the one thing that cost him his life in Chicago.

He’d been warned. Hot words and stinging tears. Angry cries and gentle blows from barely clenched fists, but he couldn’t overcome it. He was a monster. He’d been told, but he couldn’t believe. Not until he saw the bruises on her face; the blood on his knuckles. It came back in fragments, but once it did, it was burned into his memory. The things he’d done to the woman he loved in the windy city were things he wasn’t proud of. On his knees, he begged forgiveness. Promises fell from his lips; pleas for mercy. There would be no reconciliation. Her things were gone the next morning. The life he built walked out the door, never to call again.

Joe tapped the counter, and Jasper relinquished his keys without a fight. He didn't want a cab. He could walk it off like he had several nights previous. It wasn't far. Stumbling steps didn't deter him from leaving the place, bumping tables as he lumbered by. He didn't need help. He wasn't drunk. He reassured himself of that when the cool air hit his face, awakening his senses. The hum of the stuffy walls and the glow of the maddening neon lights was behind him, traded in for sparse, dim streetlights and the song of crickets. Sending his bloodshot eyes skyward, he wrinkled his nose. The stars had abandoned him in favor of still darker cosmos. "Greeeeat," he growled up at them, tripping over a crack in the cement pavers of the sidewalk, "go... on, then. Run away, too." A stagger came, followed by a hiccup as he rubbed his eyes. He was alone, and trying to like it that way. He didn't need women and their expectations and their judging glances. He didn't need the stars and their fleeting fidelity. He was an island. He'd almost forgotten how invincible a good buzz could make him feel. Every bottled up emotion bubbled over and oozed out like warm champagne being uncorked. He was steeping in the juices of it all.

His feet felt tangled up. His vision was blurred as he turned himself around. The night that seemed so peaceful a few hours ago now felt altered. Cold and stoic. It left an acrid taste in his mouth. Jasper needed to go somewhere, but where? Which direction was 'home', if he could even call it that? The first familiar thing that came into focus was the hospital. It was a hell of a lot easier to find than a tree-lined street two miles from here. He tripped over the curb as he reached the grassy outline of the paved complex. Hot flashes shot through his palms, tearing like knives through his flesh. The gravel was cruel. He watched the crimson black bead up against his pale hand and laughed once. Bitter. That was the word that consumed him. In his mouth, the sting of his hands, the smell of the city. The aching in his wounded heart. Click click click, the rhythmic sound snapped his attention away from himself. Had it not been for that sound, he might've simply laid down in the grass and licked at his marred pride. It was a feminine sound--distinct and sharp and infuriating. A flash of red passed beneath one of the overhead lights. A voice, the words garbled but angry. Echoes of things he wanted to forget.

"Hey!" he called from his knees, unaware that he sounded like a raving lunatic. The figure had paused. He could tell by the lack of the tapping of her heels. No response. Silence, then more hushed words. "Heeeeeeeeeey!" Typical woman. No manners. Not even the decency to look in his direction. Just like someone he knew. Red hair, too. Just like Cora. The lines began to blur between his sensible thoughts as he stood and waited. She didn't look his way. Maybe she hadn't heard him. The familiar feeling of being ignored was swirling with the soft red locks in his mind. She owed him something. He was sure of that. He followed the tenacious clack of her insistent, expensive shoes. He was surprisingly silent on his feet, rage fueling a certain level of sobriety he'd never remember in the morning. The red began to overwhelm him again--the color of her hair, the anger that rose in his chest when he looked at it. The barbaric way he carved into humans to try and remove their incurable diseases. Hatred for himself and his shortcomings when it came to the fairer sex. Anguish over the fact that life was so temporary, and his so unfulfilled.

He caught her arm, the soft crook of her elbow warm and abrasive against his scraped palm. Such a thin arm. Fragile. Just like the points of her annoying shoes. He watched as she recoiled from the force, not realizing the grab hadn't been gentle. "It's rude to ignore people," he stated darkly, unaware of the sinister grin spreading across his face. A pair of frightened eyes latched onto his--confused. Blue, like his own. Wide and disbelieving. For a moment, he saw his own scared, confused soul staring back at him. While she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. Felt the power in his strength, holding her fast. Was he really so disgusting that she only wanted to flee? He'd been nothing but polite in trying to ask for her attention. She tried to run again, setting her weight and pulling, but he was still stronger. He laughed again; terse. God had made woman cunning and beautiful, but he had given man the power of brute force. He drew her from her feet in a swift motion, watching as those stilted legs crumpled to the ground. Down there, she had no authority. 

Down there, she was weak and he was strong. 

Her skirt slipped up her thighs, revealing already reddening knees. A glimpse of black lacy panties. He knew what he wanted. He came down on her in an easy motion, quieting her struggles with the weight of his body up against hers. Her soft frame pressed against him. Pinned on her side, she was beautiful. His eyes roamed freely, studying the way she slashed at him with her claws and struggled. Her body writhed beneath him, letting him feel her power. It was the same fight that came over a person determined not to die when he gave a terminal diagnosis. The sheer will to survive. To live. To escape when there was no exit. Her chest heaved beneath a plunging neckline. He traced the curve of her breasts, her collarbone, her neck. So willing to fight back to live another day. Jaspers hands made a rough grab at her wrists, pinning them over her head. He leaned in, inhaling the scent of her perfume. Her fear. It was more intoxicating than the alcohol. Arousing. The tension was already building within him. 

His lips skirted over her porcelain skin, all soft brushes and heavy pants. His tongue traced her jawline, curling beneath her ear. "I know you want this." The words were in a murmur. Jasper was already using his hips to maneuver her onto her back, pressing himself up against her stomach. It was clear what he was after, and while she managed to get a good blow into his side, a quick slap across her face silenced her. "I do, too," he insisted, watching as she reeled from the shock. "Isn't that what it's all about?" He sat up, struggling with the zipper of his pants. "Two people... Coming together... fighting the odds... making something... out of nothing..." In his haste, she wiggled until she was nearly free. With a scramble, he was on top of her again. "Don't go... We're only just beginning." He grinned, giving her the once over from his position over her. She was perfect. Long, toned legs. Lean muscles. A gorgeous face. He was blind to the damage his drunken tirade was doing to her. It was probably better that way.

She was easy to expose with her limbs pinned under his own. One flick of the wrist tore through her blouse. In no time, he had two perfect, perky breasts before his eyes. He gave each the affection such a beautiful display deserved. She was soft and smooth like velvet against his rough skin. His grip loosened from her mouth to hike her skirt up over her hips. Beneath that flourish of red tresses, she was terrified, but he'd never know it. All he saw was the beauty in her feminine form. All he felt was the way his desire grew with each passing second. Their blood pumping in frenzied unison. He looked up at her when he reached for her panties, grinning like a child about to unwrap a present. Something he deserved. He was a handsome man. He was a good man who saved lives. This was a long time coming, and she was the gift that came of being good, kind, and patient.

She screamed over the tearing of this last barrier and his hand clamped down around her throat. "Shhhhh shhh shhh, babe. Don't scream." That seemed to paralyze her long enough for him to run his other hand up her thigh, rubbing up against her in a way that made her tense all over. "I'll be gentle." He imagined this was reassuring as he wrenched her legs open farther with all the force such a beautiful creature demanded before he tugged his own pants down and let himself inside. Forcing when he didn't quite fit the way he imagined. A grunt echoed against the concrete as he thrusted. She felt even more perfect beneath him, her gasping breaths pressing her breasts into him. He leaned down further, eyes closed as she moaned. "Mmmm," he buried his face in her neck, releasing his grip so she could get in a few healthy gulps of the cold night air.

"God, you're magnificent." And she was. He loved the way she felt around him; hot and tight. The way she jerked in response to his thrusts. The satisfying sound of their bodies doing what they were designed to do. He took one fistful of hair, and then another. Her head wrenched back, exposing her throat to his mouth. He painted her gorgeous flesh with sloppy strokes from his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Jasper lifted her hips, diving deeper. It was ethereal. He could hardly breathe as he finally reached his peak, spilling into her with a shudder. He drew in the scent of her hair as his chest quieted, letting the sweet smell free with a sigh of utter euphoria. Still inside of her, he lifted himself enough to meet her eyes. There was a shift in them, but he couldn't begin to fathom why. "Good girl." He said it with a smile. He leaned in, breathing in her scent one more time, marking her again with his teeth before he sat up, sliding smoothly out. 

It was then that he noticed it: red. It had followed him this whole time though he'd tried to leave it in the bar. It was in her hair and her ruddy knees. In the blood that ran from her nose. The bruises that were already starting to form from her struggles. He staggered backward. The red was pooling around her legs. The image had been far more intoxicating when the red of her hair pooled around her face. He looked down. Red. Red on his hands, on his stomach. His thighs. Stained dark into his jeans. Bitter in his mouth. Panic rose in his chest. Stumbling over his own two feet, he somehow managed to stand. "Sh-Shit," he stammered. The damage was already done. Nothing he could do. So he ran, leaving that beautiful creature to bleed red against the dirty orange-lit ground. To die, maybe. He'd never know.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

The Sun'll Come Out }} Jasper & Cora

The adrenaline rush of performing another successful surgery was coursing through his veins. Behind his mask, a cheshire grin was spreading. He was pleased, not only with himself, but also the promising young intern that had joined his service for the week. He was impressed with her dexterity and steady hands. He was drawn to her spunk and that lovely, fiery hair; emboldened by the sum of their experience in the past few days. As they scrubbed out side by side, he glanced over to her with a smile. "You're good, you know." He leaned downward, letting the water bathe his forearms. The suds swirled in the drain. "A fine addition to our program."

[coraxsummers]

I'm on my way down to the coffee cart.

[coraxsummers]

Oh yeah? What specialty would that be, Dr. Hazlett?

And I guess that means I’m on your service for the day, so go ahead and show me the ropes.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Surgical oncology. [laughs nervously] It's not as morbid as you'd think. In fact, there is a lot of joy in it. Follow me. I'd be happy to have you for the day. 

[coraxsummers]

I'm on my way down to the coffee cart.

[coraxsummers]

I guess I could be considered a rare breed.

Surgeries are great. I love surgeries. It’s why I’m here, obviously. But I also love people. I don’t get why it’s one or the other around here apparently. I just want it all.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Well, Summers, I think I know just the specialty for a person like you. Stick with me, and you can have just that. 

[coraxsummers]

I'm on my way down to the coffee cart.

[coraxsummers]

My pleasure, Dr. Hazlett.

Here’s your coffee and I hope you don’t mind I got you a muffin as well. And is that so? Because this beautiful young doctor would gladly bring you a coffee any time you so desire.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Really? That's rare. Most of them only want me for my surgeries... no interest in coffee or muffins or small talk. It's refreshing.

[coraxsummers]

I'm on my way down to the coffee cart.

[coraxsummers]

Always a good choice. I’ll have an espresso for you in 10, Dr…?

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Dr. Hazlett. Thank you... [reads her ID] Dr. Summers. It's not often a beautiful young doctor offers to bring me coffee. 

[coraxsummers]

I'm on my way down to the coffee cart.

Does anyone want anything?

[jasperhazlett-blog]

An espresso would be lovely. 

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Reflections |

He sat at the bar. The atmosphere of the Seattle dive was beginning to become a familiar one to him. He smiled slightly at the thought. It wasn't what he imagined when he accepted the position at SGMW and moved to the Northwest. He'd had grand visions of going hiking and fishing and kayaking. He thought he would see the great outdoors that Washington could offer. This place was a far cry from the fresh, clean air and the snow-capped peak of Mount Ranier, but it was becoming home. It was where all of the hospital staff hung out, and so, Jasper did, too. He was blending in, and after the initial struggle to belong, sitting in Joe's bar felt almost like belonging.

He'd been in here a few times by himself to watch the people come and go, but he'd also come with company. Once, Amelia had showed him the place. Cristina had bought him a drink once, too. It hadn't killed him, much to his surprise. Jasper wasn't stupid, but he expected the taste to turn him into something else completely. A recovering alcoholic was always just that--recovering. That's what he'd learned in the countless meetings he'd attended. For him, however, the cravings weren't constant. The pull of intoxication wasn't something he felt anymore. Maybe he'd just been out of those environments long enough to forget how it made him feel, but even after one drink, no internal switch had been flipped. In fact, he realized, it was probably alright to have one drink here and there. 

He glanced up at the barkeep, smiling kindly to get his attention. "Another club soda?" Jasper laughed softly, shaking his head. "Beer. Whatever's on tap." The words felt like old friends in his mouth. He'd forgotten just how good it felt to unwind with a beer after work. It took the edge off in the endless social encounters, too, and this place was chock full of complicated people. Taking the frothing glass in his hand when it was presented before him, he hesitated before taking a sip. One drink couldn't hurt him. It was only now and then.

[dr-cristinayang]

"Nice to meet you." Cristina said, sensing his nervousness. "It shouldn’t take you long. Have you been to Joe’s yet? It’s kind of a dive… but everyone goes there. I think it’s more of a habit than anything."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

"I've been once before," he shrugged. "If it's what people do around here, I'm there." He thought for a moment before adding, "at least it's close by."

[dr-cristinayang]

"Sure." She replied with a shrug. "I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m Cristina… and the first round is on me."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

"Oh," he laughed nervously. "Great. I'm Jasper... still trying to get my bearings around here."

[dr-cristinayang]

"I need a drink." Cristina muttered as she put down her last chart of the day. "Does anyone want to go to Joe’s?"

[jasperhazlett-blog]

"Are new surgeons invited, too?" He tried not to look too hopeful. 

[geniusiisms]

"Oh, you don’t have to do that. Unless you have a surgery I could get in on?" Lexie smiled back at the doctor in front of her hoping he could provide her with a distraction from charting. "I’m Lexie, by the way."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

"Lexie," he replied with a nod, storing her name away in his memory. "I'm Jasper, and I'm actually looking for a resident to assist me this afternoon. How do you feel about tumor removal?"

[jasperhazlett-blog]

[Journal] Day 804

Moving to Seattle seemed like it was going to be more exciting. I thought people here would know how to kick back and relax in their down time, but they all seem to be more interested in 'Joe's', a local bar. Meeting people seems easy, but we don't have anything in common besides surgery. Building a support group seems like it's going to be more difficult than I thought.

He sighed. The AA chip flipped between his fingers in idle habit. Everything felt different. Everything felt the same.

There is one woman who seems to genuinely like me. Amelia Shepherd. She says there's a reason why she's always the DD. I wonder if she's like me, but I know better than to ask. She's very interesting. Not really like the others I've met in the past. I just wish more people were friendly like her. It makes my job so much easier...

The rhythmic prayer ran through his head. The pen slapped the paper softly as he stood. This night's work was abandoned for now. Tomorrow, he'd add another tally onto his count.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

Anyone up for a drink?

[hurricaneamy-md]

Really? That’s a new one. Usually I’m the only sober one in the whole bar. My lips are sealed. Let’s go.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

[raises eyebrows] Really...? Well, not tonight. [smiles] After you. 

[geniusiisms]

"I need to get in on a surgery. I’ve been stuck charting all day."

[jasperhazlett-blog]

"Maybe I could be of help?" Jasper flashed what he thought was his friendliest smile, hoping the stranger wouldn't turn away. 

[coraxsummers]

Hospital beds actually aren't all that bad to sleep in.

[coraxsummers]

Only a 20 year old college student. Maybe one day I’ll be a doctor, but for now I really have no idea. Still young, still got plenty of time to figure out what I wanna do with my life. Doctor is a card on the table though.

It will be our secret. Don’t you worry, my lips are sealed.

[jasperhazlett-blog]

[nods] That's a good approach to things. Although... if you value your social life, you might want to pick something a little less time consuming. 

Good. Don't want them on a first-name basis. Professional barriers, and all that. By the way... the on-call rooms have much more comfortable beds, and people are a lot less likely to walk in on you. Just for future reference.