Chapter Text
“Charlotte Morningstar?” the nurse called out with her voice echoing slightly in the busy hallway.
“That’s me,” The response came with a nervous chuckle. “But, uh, please—just Charlie.”
Unfazed by the exchange, the nurse slid a crisp white vest across the counter. Standing a head taller than most with her light blonde hair, Charlie accepted it with a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shrugged off her blazer (the final piece of her chosen casual business ensemble) and draped the vest over her red dress shirt. Her folded blazer joined the sea of personal items in the lounge area.
Vest donned, Charlie rejoined the group of volunteers. They gathered around a staff member delivering the day’s briefing with the seriousness it deserved. Charlie listened intently, her mind latching onto every word about the patients they were about to meet. The words ‘special needs,’ ‘sensitivity,’ and ‘patient experiences’ settled in her mind next to a resonant thought: empathy as a cornerstone of social work.
Post-orientation, the volunteers dispersed to their assigned stations. With a manila folder clutched in her hand, Charlie found a quiet corner to review the scant details of her patient. The file was thin from its scarce details except for the lengthy medical description unlike the others she’d glimpsed. The profile unveils the following:
NAME: RODRÍGUEZ, VALERIA AGATHA
SEX: F
AGE: 30
BLOOD TYPE: O+
PATIENT ID: ███████
FILE ID: █████████
██████, NEW YORK, NY 10010, UNITED STATES
VA NY HARBOR HEALTHCARE
FOR STAFF AND MED STUDENTS' EYES ONLY
PHYSICAL TRAUMA ASSESSMENT:
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The patient presents with injuries consistent with severe physical trauma, highly suggestive of sustained assault with significant blunt-force mechanisms. Key findings include:
- Periorbital Trauma: The left orbital region exhibits extensive swelling, ecchymosis, and soft tissue damage involving the eyelid and underlying structures. Compromised vascular perfusion and suspected neuropathic impairment are evident, raising concerns regarding long-term functional recovery of the affected eye. Further ophthalmologic evaluation is warranted to assess optic nerve integrity and potential for visual preservation.
- Dorsal Injuries: Multiple linear and patterned lacerations across the posterior thorax and back, consistent with repetitive blunt-force impact and abrasive injury. The distribution and depth suggest prolonged, deliberate infliction. Radiographic and soft tissue imaging (e.g., MRI/CT if indicated) is recommended to evaluate for occult fractures or deep tissue damage. Given the extent of injury, immediate priorities include wound management, infection prophylaxis, and analgesia. Long-term rehabilitative care will be necessary to address potential musculoskeletal and sensory deficits.
PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION:
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The patient displays profound psychological distress, with observable symptoms aligning with acute stress reaction and trauma-induced dissociative behaviors:
- Mutism: Persistent nonverbal responsiveness, likely trauma-related selective mutism. Patient demonstrates minimal verbal engagement despite structured attempts by clinical staff.
- Social Withdrawal: Marked avoidance of interpersonal interaction, including refusal of group therapy and recreational activities. Patient isolates consistently, exhibiting behaviors suggestive of hypervigilance and emotional shutdown. Differential considerations include PTSD, dissociative disorder, or depressive catatonia, though further psychiatric assessment is required for definitive diagnosis.
CONCLUSION & TREATMENT PLAN:
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The patient’s condition necessitates a multidisciplinary approach:
- Physical: Serial monitoring of injuries, specialist consults (ophthalmology/neurology), and phased rehabilitation.
- Psychiatric: Trauma-focused therapy (e.g., CBT/EMDR), possible pharmacotherapy for anxiety/depression, and a safe, controlled environment to mitigate retraumatization.
- Social Work Intervention: Given the evident pattern of inflicted harm, involvement of appropriate protective services is imperative to ensure post-discharge safety. Prognosis remains guarded pending response to initial interventions. Close follow-up is essential.
After reading through the medical record, Charlie's breath caught in her throat, her heart sinking like a stone in her chest.
Anger bubbled up inside her, hot and fierce, as she struggled to comprehend the brutality of the patient’s injuries. Who could do such a damn thing to another human being? The thought churned in her mind, fueling a fire of righteous indignation.
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she fought to contain the emotions threatening to overwhelm her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
Charlie's mind raced with questions, each more futile than the last. Who was responsible for those injuries? How could they be brought to justice? And, most importantly, how could she help the Sergeant heal from the trauma she had endured?
With a steadying breath, Charlie then focused on the photograph pinned to the corner of the folder, not to let herself be more stressed out than already is. It was a military portrait, showcasing a woman whose black uniform stood in sharp relief against the stark white background. Charlie couldn't help but be drawn to the tanned woman in the photo with a commanding presence, her determined amber eyes piercing through the lens. The blonde noted the strong jawline and defined cheekbones.
Her short black hair framed her face, with a fringe almost covering her left eye. Her gaze had seen and experienced things that most people couldn't imagine. Yet, despite the stern exterior, her eyes also showed a sense of vulnerability.
As Charlie studied the photo, she couldn't help but wonder about the woman. What had she been through? What had led her to this moment? And most importantly, how could Charlie be there for her, to offer compassion and understanding in the face of whatever demons she was battling?
However, she found that woman quite… attractive. Huh.
Charlie then secured the manila folder under her arm and navigated the maze of corridors to where she hoped to find her assigned patient. Yet, she is absent, prompting Charlie to seek out a nurse.
Right, self-isolation is one of the patient’s challenges.
“Looking for her?” The nurse glanced at the document, then gestured vaguely towards the end of the room. “Room 444. As you read the records, she’s not one for mingling, even avoiding the routine med checks.”
As Charlie turned to leave, the nurse’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Good luck.”
Puzzled but undeterred, Charlie stopped at the supply room for a first aid kit, a precaution suggested by the nurse’s cryptic comment. She followed the sequence of numbers down the hallway until she reached Room 444. The nameplate read simply:
Sgt. Rodríguez
Inhaling deeply, Charlie knocked softly against the wood. "Hey, is anyone there?"
The corridor offered no reply save for the muted bustle of life somewhere far off. Charlie, persistent, rapped on the door again firmer. "Just checking in. All good in there?"
No answer came.
A crease formed between Charlie's brows as she grasped the doorknob, surprised to find it’s unlocked. A moment's hesitation, then the knob turned under her hand. "I'm coming in, okay? No need to freak out," she declared, pushing the door open.
As the door swung wide, Charlie's gaze fell upon the figure seated by the bed, her eyes drawn to the woman's profile. The patient's hair was slightly longer than in the photo, falling just above her shoulders in dark waves. But what caught Charlie's attention were the bandages that adorned her head with a gauze patch over her left eye.
Approaching cautiously, Charlie took in the woman's motionless form, her gaze fixed on something beyond the window. "Um… Sergeant?" She called out softly, unsure if the woman would even acknowledge her presence.
There was still no response, the woman seeming lost in her thoughts. With a sinking feeling in her chest, Charlie took another step forward, her instincts urging her to reach out. She closed the distance between herself and the patient. "Sergeant... Valeria?" she tried again. "I'm here for you.”
At the sound of her name, the woman finally turned her attention towards Charlie, her expression troubled and tense. The blonde could feel the gaze like assessing her in some way, but Charlie still offered her a reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension.
"It's all good," Charlie murmured, edging nearer. "Just wanted to see how you're holding up. Need anything?”
The patient's lone right eye observed Charlie from head to toe, seeming to size her up. Charlie tried to remain calm under the scrutiny, waiting for some sign of recognition or response from the woman before her.
Breaking the silence, Charlie introduced herself. “I’m Charlie,” she said, her tone inviting and friendly. “I’ll be working with you while you’re here. Got a name you prefer?”
The patient's gaze lingered on Charlie, silently appraising her with her lone eye. Charlie waited patiently for a response, but none came. Instead, the woman's gaze drifted down to her clenched fists resting in her lap, her expression unreadable.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Charlie's features, but she quickly shook it off. Noticing the frayed edges of the bandage over the sergeant's eye, she spied an opportunity.
Charlie settled into the metal chair beside the bed, the first aid kit in hand. "This patch has seen better days," she observed. "Do you mind if I change it?"
The patient's initial reaction was to tense, a natural defense against the anticipated touch. Yet, as Charlie unfolded a fresh bandage, the woman's resistance seemed to dissolve, leaving a sense of ease in its place, seeing how gentle the blonde’s movements were.
With careful and practiced hands, Charlie began to unwind the old dressing, her movements carefully to avoid discomfort. The patient remained still, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the window as Charlie worked.
After removing the worn bandage, Charlie was drawn to the bleeding near the patient's eye. She gently cleaned the area, revealing the tender skin marred by scabs beneath. Judging by the injury and the records that have already been told, the nature of the injury does suggest a violent cause with repeated harm left the eye socket swollen and severely damaged.
Her brain screams to hunt down whoever caused this.
With a gentle touch, Charlie began to clean and dress the wound in light and tender touches. The other woman flinched at the touch, pain crossing her features before she forced herself to remain still. Charlie paused, her heart aching at seeing the patient’s silent suffering. She wished she could ease her pain and offer her some semblance of comfort in this sterile, unfamiliar environment.
"I'm sorry, this might sting," Charlie’s tone is apologetic. "But it'll start feeling better soon.”
She continued carefully cleaning the wound. While doing so, the patient's tense demeanor began to soften even further. Charlie couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, even feeling her cheeks flush as she watched the woman relax under her touch.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Charlie finished cleaning the area around the other woman's eye. She carefully applied a fresh bandage, tucking it snugly into place to protect the tender skin underneath.
"There we go," Charlie said softly, smoothing down the edges of the bandage. "All done.”
The patient remained silent, her gaze fixed on some unseen distant point. But there was a subtle shift in her demeanor, a slight easing of the tension that had been present.
As Charlie's gaze wandered over the woman's form, she noticed a full-sleeve tattoo winding its way down the woman's right arm until her wrist. The intricate design danced across her skin, weaving swirling patterns and figures. Charlie hadn't noticed it before, perhaps obscured by the hospital lighting, but now that she saw the entire forearm, she couldn't make out the entirety of the tattoo. She found herself utterly captivated while the hospital scrubs covered the upper arm sleeve.
The tattoo appeared to depict a series of religious-looking angelic figures (that Charlie is unfortunately clueless about), their graceful forms adorned with intricate details. Each figure seemed to exude a sense of divine serenity with their outstretched wings. Yet, interspersed among the angels were darker, more enigmatic symbols.
When the patient's voice finally came, it was a soft, gravelly whisper. "It's... Vaggie," she said. "That's what everyone calls me. Sergeant isn't necessary."
Charlie's response was instinctive. Her voice warmed as she echoed the name. "Vaggie," she said, a smile in her tone. "It's a beautiful name..." Realizing her slip, Charlie coughed a feigned interruption. “I mean, thank you for letting me know.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of Vaggie's lips, a flicker of gratitude in her lone eye. It was a subtle gesture, but it filled Charlie with a sense of relief, and it even fluttered her chest, knowing that she had made a connection with her patient.
Vaggie nodded, and her hand instinctively went up to her bandaged eye. "And... thank you for helping me replace it.”
Charlie returned Vaggie's smile. Her heart felt lighter, knowing she had comforted the woman before her.