DINNER & DIATRIBES. . . JACKSON AVERY!

chapter fifteen: sanctuary & death and all his friends

TRIGGER WARNINGS:
gun violence; suicidal ideation; miscarriage; "sanctuary" and "death and all his friends" related triggers. there's descriptions of gun violence & trauma. this is a heavy chapter, so if anyone thinks of anything else i should add here, please let me know.

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"Well, fancy meeting you here." Briar chuckles, grinning at Jackson, who only just beat her to the coffee cart.

"At our place of employment? It's a modern miracle." He plays along, and then jerks his head forward. "Go ahead and order, it's my treat for today."

"Whatever has you so happy needs to continue happening." Briar says before stepping up next to Jackson and ordering, the two of them moving aside to wait for them to be made right after. "Who's service are you on today?"

"Altman's. You?"

"Hunt's. I'm hoping he'll let me run the pit again today. It's happened a few times and it gives me such a thrill, I need that today. I'm dragging."

"You could always ask him." Jackson points out, making Briar's eyes widen as she frantically shakes her head.

"Oh no, not with Owen. You have to let him decide. It's a total man thing." She complains, grinning when Jackson lets out an offended noise.

"Ouch."

"Shush, you know I'm right. Anyway, thank you for the coffee. I'll see you later?"

"Knowing us, we'll both be at the vending machines at the same time." He agrees with a laugh, waving at her as they split up. Briar is grinning to herself as she enters the crowded E.R., only to gasp a minute later when she bumps into someone, falling straight to the floor.

"Sinclair, you alright?" She hears Owen call, waving him away as her cheeks flush bright red. Thankfully, there doesn't seem to be much damage done to her scrubs, aside from a few spots on her pants. The real damage was done to the floor, and she smiles apologetically as Tyler moves to clean it up.

"Thanks, man. Remind me to buy you one later." She tells him, before turning to the man she bumped into, who looks aggravated. A quick scan shows that he's an older gentleman, his dark hair balding, wearing a longer brown coat over a white button-up. It's not buttoned fully, revealing his black undershirt.

"I'm so sorry, sir, are you okay? Did you get burned at all?" She asks in a rush, scanning him for any injuries and not seeing any. He's a few inches taller than her, and she fell straight to the floor, so he seems to have stayed clear of the splash zone. Still, better safe than sorry, especially while Derek is already dealing with a lawsuit from a grieving widower.

Something inside of her freezes when he turns his eyes on her. They're icy blue, something so cold in them that it stops her in her place, making her want to rush away from him as quickly as possible. It's only years of experience inside of hospitals that keeps her feet planted to the floor, waiting for an answer.

"Not this time." He says, and Briar blinks, trying to make sense of that answer. He didn't get burned this time? "Do you know where I can find the Chief of Surgery?"

"Dr. Shepherd?" She asks slowly, clearing her throat when his gaze remains locked onto her. He's more than likely in his office, but she doesn't feel comfortable giving away that information. She doesn't know this guy. If he has an appointment with Derek, he can come down and lead him to his office. "I'm sorry, I don't. If you stay right here, I'll try and get some–"

In a curtained off section across the room, someone starts coding, and Briar instinctively rushes that way. "Stay there, I'll be back!" She shouts over her shoulder, jumping into the fray as soon as she can with Dr. Barlowe updating her on the patient in the background.