U N S A F E S P A C E ;; Closed
&&. closed starter for @cpt-spangles & @guiltybydissociation -- --
Short heels clicked on the white tile, a woman walking down the wide, cold hall. Dr. Barton passed nurses along the way, giving small nods to each of them as a greeting. They were quick and absent-minded, as she was just thinking of her PATIENT, the man she was going to see now. His files were tucked under her arm, that of Rogers, Steven Grant.
She came in at least once a week, but on occasions she saw him more, when he seemed to be doing worse.
Coming to his room, she waited for the security guard who’d come with her to unlock and open the door. When he did, she stepped in and looked to the man, to Steven with a small, friendly smile she’d brought on her face. It was time for that weekly evaluation, to see how he was.
Charlotte never expected him to get better. To recover from this trance, but it was her job to try, to check on him every week, to make sure he was OKAY.
Her hand raised to her hair, brushing the dyed brunette lock that strayed from the rest of her ponytail behind her ear, taking a step forward while the guard closed the door behind her, standing by it and waiting. “Hello, Mr. Rogers,” she said to the man, voice somewhat laced with pity. She didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but it did. She pulled forward the chair from the corner by the door, putting it a few feet from him and sitting down.
“It’s time for your weekly checkup. So let’s start with how you’re feeling.”
