Stitches | Poe Dameron

i

My sleep was awoken by the sound of my alarm.

On autopilot, my hand came crashing down on the infuriating device. The barren morning walls greeting me as I got up for work.

My living quarters were pretty small, probably 12x15 ft. There was a single bed pushed up against the left wall adjacent to the door, a small closet built in the wall. Next to that a small bathroom (shower, sink, toilet) with a door for privacy, and a small desk opposite to the bed.

I didn't share a room - medics never did, in case one got sick, the Resistance didn't want two medics down when it could only be one - so I didn't care for decorating. Not like I had anything to decorate with.

I hop in the shower quickly, brush my teeth, and change into my work clothes. My scrubs consisted of a white t-shirt with large arm holes and a white skirt, sometimes I wore pants, but it usually got hot in the medical ward.

Next it was off to do my job. You could say I was more of a background character. While there were the people with the force, the pilots going on missions, and all the fighters going to fight the First Order, I stayed back here and made sure they stayed alive when they got hurt.

"Good morning ma'am." A nurse with blue scrubs and a hair net walked by me as I walked into the ward and to my section.

Nurses with purple and blue scrubs rushed around with patients and papers and supplies all around. As a doctor, I wore white scrubs as a way to show that I'm the one people come to in emergencies. Mainly I'm the repair surgeon, a specialist - and artist, as Esma calls it - in stitching. Which is why I got the nickname-

"Morning, Stitches." My co-worker stood at her locker, gathering her gloves and equipment.

"Morning Esma." I responded and open my locker, immediately grabbing my doctor coat.

I take out some new gloves and my mask before I start gathering my equipment.

"Hey did you hear the news?" Esma slips on her protector for her shoes. "The Pilots got back from their mission - well most of them - I got a couple waiting for me. I wonder if I have the really hot one."

I laughed at her statement. Esma liked people, and she liked flirting with people.

"Which hot one?" I asked and slip on my protectors too. "There's a lot of hot ones."

"Hmm..." Esma gathers her things, "Maybe Poe Dameron, he is the best pilot in the resistance."

"Yea, like you'd have the pleasure of having Poe Dameron to take care of." I laugh again, grab my stuff and close my locker.

All of a sudden the doors to our section of the ward burst open.

"Help! Help! I need a medic!"

Esma and I run towards the man shouting. There were three people, General Organa, a pilot dressed in his orange jumpsuit, and a body on a stretcher.

"His arms open! Help!"

Immediately I knew that's my cue. I step out to catch their attention. 

"Bring him this way." I say as the general and pilot push the stretcher the way I'm leading them.

"What happened to him?" I ask as I make way through the people in the halls and speed walk to my special room.

"His-his arm is open!" The pilot shouted, clearly in shock.

"I mean why is his arm open?" I be more specific and place my stethoscope around my neck in a fuss.

"A large piece of an X-Wing fell on him and cut through him a lot." General Organa speaks before doing a double take, "and who are you?"

I turn back quickly and flash the leader a smile.

"I'm the stitching specialist, if anyone will be able to get him good as new it'll be me." I open the door to my room.

"Put him there." I direct The man and rush to my counter to prepare my needles and antiseptics.

"He'll be alright, right?" He asked.

"Of course, I'm the best there is at this stuff." I say and turn around. "But I must work in silence, if you could please leave, I'll inform you when I'm finished."

I lead General Organa and the pilot out the door, but before I close it the General stops me.

"Please do your best, I need him." She says.

I smile softly,

"I will." I close the door.

I take a split second to remind myself what I need to do and turn around, nearly dropping the supplies in my hands. There on the stretcher, his arm and left shoulder gashed and bleeding is the best pilot in the Resistance.

Poe Dameron.

A/N

hey hey :) i write on tumblr too
@kleftiko