Nightshift 41: Disciplinary Therapy Room 4 [MU for Impulse/Bart Allen]

[damned-doctors.livejournal.com]

He'd treated his whole life like a video game, but now it was time to learn there was no reset button here. No saved games, no extra lives. And no way out.

He needed to learn that he couldn't just take what he had for granted and that even in his virtual world there could be pain and loss. He'd appreciate it one day, she was sure of it. And it was her job tonight to make sure he understood exactly what he stood to lose.

She took a moment to check her reflection in the surface of an instrument tray, gently patting the errant strands of her short, brown bob into place. She didn't look old enough to be anyone's grandmother, but the resemblance alone was uncanny and one she was sure her patient would appreciate. She smiled to herself, and it was every bit as cool and sterile as the tray serving as a mirror. Setting it back down, she carefully checked and arranged her equipment until she was satisfied with everything.

The tray of instruments was then moved to be closer to the gurney the boy was strapped to and she checked the pair of syringes one last time before turning her attention onto the still figure. Everything was in place at last and she intended to make sure that this would be a night to remember. Particularly considering she had an audience as well.

Leaning over the unconscious figure on the gurney, the doctor gently pressed her hand to the side of his face in a gesture that was motherly, yet strangely clinical.

"Time to wake up, Bart."